Beginning of the End
by PhasL
Summary: Before he became an angel he was just a ghost. A story that tells how the infamous Opera Ghost became the Angel of Music set before the 2004 movie. COMPLETE.
1. Part One: The Opera Ghost

**Part One: The Opera Ghost**

**I**

**

* * *

**_Before he became an angel he was just a ghost. A story that tells how the infamous Opera Ghost became the Angel of Music. Set before the 2004 movie._**

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**Antoinette Giry's footsteps were drowned out as she walked through the bustle of the backstage. In two weeks time an opera was to be performed and rehearsals were now in full swing. Costumes were being fitted and props were being finished. 

"Hurry up my dear," she said to her daughter. The small blonde scurried forward and grasped her mother's hand.

The stage was relatively calm compared to the back stage. The conductor, Monsieur Reyer was discussing something with Monsieur Lefevre, the manager of the Opera Populaire. Upon seeing her however, Monsieur Lefevre turned his head.

"Madame Giry," he smiled, "how are you today?"

"I am fine, though I wonder why you have called me here," she replied irritably, "I have to make sure my dancers are ready for rehearsal."

"Ah, yes. I apologise however, the new first violinist will be arriving today. Any minute now actually."

"Oui?"

"And I would like you to meet him. Seeing as you are the ballet mistress it is only appropriate."

"I see, and where is he?" she asked. That wasn't the real reason; it did not matter if she were to meet the man. But the Ghost would be interested and she was the means he conveyed his thoughts.

"Here he is now. Monsieur Daae!"

Antoinette turned her head to see the man. He was fairly young with dark somewhat curly hair and dark eyes. He looked slightly dishevelled and pale though, as if he were sick. He was with another man with greying brown hair and a moustache, dressed in a suit. No doubt his patron.

"Welcome to the Opera Populaire Monsieur Daae," Monsieur Lefevre said, "I would like you to meet our conductor, Monsieur Reyer and the ballet mistress, Madame Giry."

"A pleasure," he replied, "I am Gustave Daae."

The other man leaned in and whispered something in his ear. Gustave nodded his head and the other man left with a stiff nod towards the others.

"Monsieur Daae is quite well know in Sweden," Monsieur Lefevre went on, and the Opera Populaire is very pleased to have him with us."

Gustave smiled and a bit of colour crept into his cheeks, "Thank you."

"Well, you are no doubt tired from your trip," Monsieur Lefevre said, eyes darting up to the flies, "you will of course be wanting to return to your apartment."

"Maman," Meg whined, pulling on her mother's skirts.

"Hush my dear," Antoinette scolded.

"How sweet," Gustave murmured, "I have a daughter of my own…Christine?"

Antoinette looked down and noticed the young girl hiding behind her father's legs. Thick brown curls surrounded her small face and her large brown eyes widened with fear.

"She is very shy at times," he explained, "Christine why don't you say hello to…I'm afraid-"

"Meg," Antoinette replied, "Meg go say hello to Christine, perhaps you could take her to show her your doll?"

Meg beamed at the prospects and hurried over to grab Christine's hand. It took a bit of coaxing, but soon Christine was trailing behind Meg as they hurried off the stage.

"Monsieur Lefevre," Monsieur Reyer sighed, "we really must begin rehearsal. Will Monsieur Daae be joining us or not?"

"I will," Gustave answered, "if it is at all possible."

"Of course," Monsieur Reyer said, "you will need to learn the music."

"Yes, of course," Monsieur Lefevre sighed, "carry on. Madame, I will no doubt see you later on today."

"No doubt."

"Well, I will be leaving you to it then. Good luck!"

Monsieur Reyer directed Gustave to the orchestra pit and handed him the folder of music that they would be playing in the next orchestra. Antoinette could not help but sigh, his first rehearsal, which meant his true trial was to begin.

"I hope you like him," she murmured, glancing up at the rafters above the stage.

The rehearsal began and the stage immediately became a mess of dancers and singers, at some points in time Antoinette wondered how they ever managed to get the show together for opening night. It never seemed possible at first, but it always happened.

"Non!" she shouted, "Charlotte, you are off count!"

The final chords played and everyone scattered, moving off the stage or to the side to gossip and discuss the horrendous costumes and crowded stage. The dancers all hurried over the Antoinette.

"I'm sorry," Charlotte apologized.

"It is fine, just try to keep time. Take a break for now the rehearsal is over. Stretch and do back to the dormitory to get changed."

They murmured their ascent and bustled off the stage in a flurry of practice skirts and gossip. Antoinette allowed a small smile to grace her lips they were all good girls.

"Madame Giry?" Monsieur Reyer called.

"Oui Monsieur?"

"A good rehearsal, wasn't it?"

Antoinette nodded her head. Monsieur Reyer always looked so nervous, as if the smallest upset could set off some sort of panic attack. It reminded her a little of a mouse, or perhaps that was because that was what _he_ had used to describe him. 'A twitchy mouse of a man.'

"Yes, it will all be together by opening night."

"I hope so...what did you think Monsieur Daae?"

"Its different," he sighed, "and a bit…I'm not sure I could describe it."

"Hectic?" Antoinette offered.

"Yes, hectic. But the music is simple enough, I will have it memorized for the performance."

"Good, good," Monsieur Reyer sighed, "I will give you the music to the other opera we will be starting soon."

"Tomorrow," Antoinette said, resting her hands on her cane, "I hope you are ready Monsieur Daae, the life at the opera can be quite interesting at times."

He sighed and looked over the music in front of him, then gave a small smile to Monsieur Reyer and Antoinette. Life at the opera did look to be quite exciting, if not stressful.

"I would like to hear you play, without the rest of the orchestra now," Monsieur Reyer said, "just so I can hear what you can do."

"Of course Monsieur."

Gustave lifted the violin and placed it under his chin. Without hesitation he lifted the bow and played the sheet music in front of him, eyes darting across the page as he read the notes.

"Enough thank you Monsieur Daae. You may go home now," he waited until the violinist had left before turning to Antoinette, "what do you think Madame?"

"He is very talented, I cannot see our Ghost having any problems with him."

"No, but then again I don't know what was wrong with the last one. Poor soul…"

Antoinette sighed lightly and turned to head back to her room. True, there had been no evident problems with the last violinist, but then again _he_ was not known for his cool thinking and rational behaviour. Still, what he had done did seem rash, but it was best not to dwell on what he did for no matter how hard she tried Antoinette still could not understand his wild moods and unpredictable behaviour.

"Maman!" Meg exclaimed, running over with Christine following behind.

"My dear, Christine's father will be looking for her. Come we must go find him."

"Of course maman."

Antoinette led the two little girls through the theatre. She found Gustave waiting back stage, obviously hoping that his daughter would somehow show up.

"Papa!" Christine exclaimed, dashing over to her father.

Gustave swept her up into his arms and kissed her cheek, "Thank you Madame. Christine did you have fun?"

"Mmm hmm," she murmured.

"I will see you tomorrow," Antoinette said.

"Yes, thank you again Madame, for letting our daughters play together. Aurevoir."

Antoinette sighed and started to make her way back through the theatre. Meg dashed ahead of her, eager to try and find one of the younger dancers to play with. That suited Antoinette well, for as she walked she kept her eyes peeled on the ground. But there was nothing, no note. Perhaps he was waiting for tomorrow's rehearsal. That way everyone could hear his opinions.

"Hurry up maman!" Meg urged.

"I am coming my dear," she replied. Then with a final glance at the floor she hurried after her daughter.

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**Disclaimer: I do not own anything regarding Phantom of the Opera, sadly all that belongs to Gaston Leroux, Susan Kay, Adrew Lloyd Webber and all other respective title owners. Any characters you do not recognize however are all mine.**


	2. II

**II**

The pitter-patter of tiny feet greeted Madame Giry. Little girls in their practise skirts and little pink ballet slippers hurried down the hall in front of her. Ranging in age between six and twelve, all of them prospects to be dancers in the chorus some day. 

"Maman, will I be a dancer?" Meg asked, bright eyes with excitement.

"Oui, but next year, when you are seven."

"But maman, Louise is six and she's a dancer," Meg pouted.

"Oui, but you are not. Next year my dear, right now we must go to rehearsal."

Meg pouted, "I don't want to go."

"Fine, then you may go back to bed."

Her small brow creased as she considered her options. Finally she hurried after her mother, not wanting to miss the excitement of rehearsal. Besides, the cleaning ladies always let her help them dust the chairs.

"Madame Giry," Monsieur Lefevre greeted tensely, "how are you this morning?"

"Tres bien, and you?"

"I have been better, this entire opera seems to be nothing but a huge disaster in the waiting. Props disappearing, costumes not getting finished, backdrops not being painted!"

"It always gets done," she reminded him gently.

"Yes, yes it always gets done. Have you started the dances for the next performance?"

"We start this afternoon, along with the music. Now if you do not mind, we have a rehearsal to return to."

"Oh, yes of course. Pardon me."

Antoinette shook her head slightly as he left. The poor man had been so thrilled when he had first purchased the theatre. Amazed by the rich architecture, the music, the costumes and performances he had seen, completely unaware of the actual work behind all of it. Of course with such an inexperienced new manager _he_ was able to start fresh and so began a new reign over the theatre.

With a resigned sigh Antoinette bent and picked up the envelope sealed with the red skull. Walking out onto the stage she held it up for Monsieur Reyer to see. The poor man looked as if he would faint and quickly handed out the rest of the music to the orchestra.

"Come with me," he murmured to Gustave.

"Monsieur Lefevre!" Antoinette called. When he turned she waved the note so that he could see it.

"So our friend has something he wishes to say," he groaned as he walked over, "fine, read it."

"What is this?" Gustave asked.

"A message from the Opera Ghost," Antoinette answered, "for you Monsieur."

"Me? Ghost? What?"

"He welcomes you to his opera house and congratulates you on your new position. He says that he finds you to be a competent musician and looks forward to having you as the first violin. Monsieur Lefevre, he reminds you that his salary is due in two weeks."

"I am quite aware of that…well at least he approves. Congratulations Monsieur Daae, you are officially a member of the Opera Populaire."

"I'm afraid I don't-"

"Come, come," Monsieur Reyer interrupted, "we must start the rehearsal."

Antoinette watched as her dancers moved across the stage, swaying to the music. She always felt proud to see them on stage, personally amazed that they had all been able to learn the dance and perform it with near perfection.

"One and two and three!" she called out, helping them find their count again. In two weeks they would know it all by heart, "Very good!"

The rehearsal ended in a flurry of action as the dancers and performers scuttled off the stage. Some to change out of partially finished costumes, some to friend something to eat before the mêlée of the afternoon began. She left the stage in search of a bite to eat before the afternoon began. She would now have to teach two new ballets to her dancers and the minor parts they would play throughout the opera.

"Maman can I help you?" Meg asked eagerly.

"Non, why don't you go and play with Louise?"

"Alright," she pouted.

Antoinette felt guilt bite at her stomach. Her daughter was so eager to spend time with her, but work often caused her to turn the child away. With a small groan she made her way back to the stage. It was the best place to practise, even if the orchestra was attempting to learn their new pieces. There was plenty of space and that is what she would need.

"Madame may we stop for the day?" Charlotte asked, wiping a strand of dirty blonde hair from her face, "it's late and we are all exhausted."

"Yes, you all did very well. I will see you tomorrow for rehearsal and practise. Stretch and get a good nights sleep."

She could hear them grumble as they left the stage. Some of the orchestra was still playing quietly in the background, often repeating the same bars over time and again as they learned the music. She left the stage and leaned against one of the walls, rubbing her temples to try and vanquish the dull ache that had developed there.

"Good evening Madame," Gustave smiled as he approached.

"Is it?" she asked heavily, "pardon my manners, it has been a difficult day."

"Of course, I understand."

Antoinette gave a light chuckle, the poor man looked almost as exhausted as she felt. His pale skin only magnified the dark circles under his eyes.

"I hope that your first day was not too terrible."

"Not too terrible," he agreed, "though I do have some questions…"

"About the Opera Ghost?"

"Yes, what was that all about? The letter I mean and who is this Opera Ghost that everyone speaks of?"

"He haunts the theatre…non, that is not correct, he owns the theatre."

"But-"

"Do not interrupt monsieur, I will explain. The Phantom, as many call him, controls everything that happens in the theatre. He chooses many of the operas we perform and everyone who works here and is involved in the performance is approved by him."

"And what if he does not approve?"

"Then they leave, it is that simple. If he does not like them then he will inform the manager and the person in question will normally be forced to leave the theatre."

"And if they don't?"

"Terrible things happen monsieur. Accidents of all sorts. If he is not happy then the theatre suffers. Falling backdrops, missing props, injured performers or patrons…too many things have happened for Monsieur Lefevre to ignore him. In order to keep him happy Monsieur Lefevre gives him twenty thousand francs a month and box five, per his request. You have your job thanks to him."

"Then I suppose I should be grateful to him," Gustave murmured, "shouldn't I?"

"Perhaps, but pray that you stay in his good grace. The man you replaced did not and…"

"And what?"

"Nothing Monsieur, you need not concern yourself with that. Go home, have supper and spend time with your daughter. Tomorrow is another day and they will only get more hectic."

Upon returning to her room Antoinette collapsed into the chair. Meg quickly climbed onto her lap and wrapped her small arms around her mother's neck. Antoinette returned the hug; grateful for the time she now had with her daughter.

"Would you like me to read you a story?" she asked.

"Oh yes!" Meg exclaimed.

Antoinette smiled and put her daughter on the floor as she went to find a book. Meg would no doubt want a fairy tale, something with a princess and a dragon or a brave knight.

She picked up the book and sat down in the chair again. Meg climbed back onto her lap and snuggled into her mother's arms. Antoinette opened the book and flipped to one of the stories. She would worry about the dances tomorrow.


	3. III

III

Gustave wandered through the streets of Paris, heading back to his apartment. What Madame Giry had said weighed heavily on his shoulders. His lively hood now seemed to depend on some mysterious figure whose whim controlled the entire theatre. It seemed incredible, some extravagant joke.

"Papa!" Christine exclaimed as he entered the door. She wrapped her tiny arms around his legs and smiled at him.

"My little Angel!" he laughed, scooping her up, "did you behave today?"

"She did monsieur," answeredthe maid, "but she missed you something terrible I think."

"Thank you Madame."

The woman just chuckled and slipped past him and out the door, "There is some stew in the kitchen."

"Can you tell me a story papa?" Christine asked, "Can you tell about Little Lotte and the Angel of Music?"

"Of course," he chuckled, "but then I have to practise my music alright?"

She nodded her head sadly, "Can I sing with you?"

"Of course darling," he said warmly, "so Little Lotte?"

"Yes!"

"Little Lotte though of everything and nothing…"

The bustle of the theatre was evident as soon as he entered the backstage. He gave a heavy sigh; it was obvious that a job at the Opera Populaire would be much different from all the other jobs his patron had gotten him. Three times he nearly collided with a member of the chorus or the ballet. Once he ran into another member of the orchestra.

"Monsieur Daae, correct?" the balding man asked cheerfully.

"Yes, excuse me."

"So you're the replacement for Monsieur Duchamp, you seem a nice enough fellow. Oh, where are my manners? Barton," he said, offering a hand.

"Nice to meet you," Gustave said, shaking the other mans hand.

"Not used to all this yet eh?" the other man asked, "it takes time. Come, or Monsieur Reyer might have a fit. Poor man, very stressed, especially since poor Duchamp…oh, pardon my ramblings, rehearsal is about to begin."

Gustave sighed and followed the man to the orchestra pit, passing Antoinette on the way. She was calling instructions to her dancers and helping them warm up.

"Hurry, hurry," Monsieur Reyer encouraged, "there is not much time."

Gustave found his place and took out his violin, preparing to tune it before the rehearsal. The sheets of music were laid out on the stand before him and he flipped to the first page.

The brief break for lunch was a welcome relief, the continuous playing and listening to the singers run through their songs was becoming tedious. Between that there were also the ballets to watch while listening to the sharp scolding and instructions of Madame Giry. He wondered how the woman could continue the shout at the dancers; he surely would have lost his voice by then.

"Madame Giry!" he called, coming up beside her.

"Oui monsieur?"

"I was hoping that tomorrow I may be able to bring Christine and she could stay with your daughter for the day. I do not like leaving her at the apartment with just the maid to watch her."

"She would be in better protection there," she replied with a shrug, "but I see no reason why you could not bring her, Meg would be thrilled."

"Merci, rehearsal seemed to go well today."

"Hmm, I suppose so. But there are still many rehearsals left before the performance. Just wait, it will get far more interesting."

"Will it?" he grumbled.

"Oui, you will see. The Ghost will soon have his say on the entire affair."

"I see…"

"Aurevoir Monsieur Daae, I have classes to teach."

"Yes, aurevoir Madame."

Once the ballet mistress was gone he sighed heavily and leaned against the wall. He wasn't sure how a rehearsal could get more interesting. They already seemed to be a sort of organized chaos.

"Opera Ghost," he muttered and turned back towards the stage, "I'm quite sure…"

He didn't register the quiet swish of material from above, nor did he feel the eyes upon his back. The prospect of something or someone secretly running an entire theatre seemed preposterous to him. After all, what would a ghost do with money and a box?


	4. IV

IV

"Erik?" his name echoed through the silent chapel. It had been so long since Antoinette had visited him.

"Oui Madame?" he replied.

"Why don't you come out?" she asked irritably, "I do not enjoy having discussions with disembodied voices."

"No…that would be difficult to explain if someone caught you, wouldn't it?"

"Come out."

He gave an irritated grunt and opened the secret passage, it was not one he normally used and the door was sticky. He turned to face Antoinette and the slight amusement in his eyes left at her expression.

"Is something the matter, Madame?"

"You tell me."

Erik allowed a small smirk to spread across his face, "I have no idea what you are speaking of Madame."

"You like the new violinist?" she asked.

"Yes, yes," he replied with a vague wave of his hand, "he is quite talented from what I have heard. A great deal more skilled then that other one… Duchamp?"

"Oui, Duchamp," she snapped.

"You seem irritable today Madame, are you feeling alright? I have seen those rehearsals, they must be terribly stressful."

"They would be a great deal less stressful if everyone was not terrified that you might dislike one aspect or another."

Erik sighed and swished his cloak a couple of times. It was then that Antoinette knew her time with the infamous Opera Ghost was over. For being at least twenty-one she found him incredibly childish.

"If you are quite finished, Madame, I would like to take my leave. It is dangerous to remain out in the open for too long. Some day there may be someone bright enough to actually find me."

"Fine," Antoinette snapped, "go then, I care not. I have practise to get to and children to teach. But please, until the end of this performance, leave the theatre in peace."

"We shall see Madame," he rumbled, opening the passage again, "we shall see."

He wandered aimlessly through the passages and hidden halls of the Opera Populaire. Some days it could be terribly boring in the theatre, even with all the hellish racket of rehearsals and the endless movement of people from one place to another. With a bored sigh Erik finally turned and made his way back to the lake.

A group of ballet rats scurry past him, but they cannot see the dark form in the shadows. For a moment Erik considered allowing them a brief glimpse of the Phantom, it would keep them talking for days. But then he thought better of it, scaring little children hardly seemed fair…stagehands however, that could provide a bit of excitement.

"No, move that over here!" Jacques growled.

A younger man grumbled and dragged a prop tree across the hall. Erik recognized him, though he could not put a name to the face. It was amazing how many of the stagehands could end up in the cellars looking for props or dumping old ones.

"Come on, it isn't that heavy," Jacques snarled.

"You don't have to carry the damn thing," the boy grumbled under his breath.

Erik chuckled quietly, allowing the sound to carry from the shadows to the ears of the stagehands. The boy with the tree froze and looked around wildly.

"What now?" Jacques demanded.

"I-I thought I heard…never mind," he grabbed the tree and gave it a savage push causing one of the branches to break off.

"You may consider being more careful," Erik said silkily, throwing his voice so it seemed to echoed from the other side of the hall, "I will not be pleased if all of the props are destroyed."

"Who said that?" Jacques demanded, "Who's there?"

"No one," a voice whispered in his ear, then it laughed. A sharp mirthless laugh that seemed to chill his blood.

"It's the Ghost," the boy hissed.

"Be quiet Joseph," Jacques snapped, "don't be foolish!"

"But he isn't being foolish," the voice cautioned, this time coming from the shadows across the hall.

Erik made sure the passage was open before stepping forward, just enough so that his form and the white mask became visible. But not the left side of his face, that remained in shadow. A cruel smile twisted his lips as the colour drained from their faces and their eyes widened in terror. Erik grabbed the side of his cloak and gave an amazing swish of the cloak, turning on his heel as he did so and entering the hidden door.

"It-it was the Phantom," Joseph babbled.

Without another word both stagehands turned and ran from the hall. Sprinting as fast as their legs could carry them. Unaware of the amusement they had caused their resident ghost.

Erik had to admit that the rehearsals were starting to actually look and sound like an opera. The third trombone wasn't playing in key and one of the dancers was almost always off by one count, but it wasn't terrible, it wasn't good though. His stomach growled softly and he made a note to steal something from the kitchen within the next day.

"Enough," Monsieur Reyer groaned, "That is enough for the day, go, go now."

Erik chuckled quietly, obviously the conductor was as tired of listening to them play as he himself was. With a resigned sigh he got up from the seat in box five and made his way back through the theatre. If there was any time to complain about an aspect of the performance it would be now, just when the entire thing seemed possible to complete…perhaps he should get rid of that one dancer.

"Yes," he said to himself, "that would do nicely."

A cruel smirk crossed his features as he disappeared into the shadows. It was time for the Opera Ghost to make yet another 'appearance.'

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**So far I have only had one review on this story, I know that more then just one person has read it and I would be thrilled if I could get a few more reviews, some feedback of what you like and what you don't like. Until then, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. P.L.**


	5. V

V

Christine and Meg skidded to a stop in front of their separate parents. Both of them were puffing away and their faces were flushed.

"What have you two been doing?" Antoinette asked.

"Playing tag," Meg smiled, "I was it."

"Oh, and did you catch Christine?"

"No," Meg said sulkily, "she can run really fast."

Gustave laughed and patted Meg's little blonde head, "Well I'm sure you gave her a good run."

"Uh huh," she beamed.

"Papa," Christine said, "guess what I learned from Meg?"

"What did you learn?" he asked. Antoinette seemed interested in what she had learned as well.

"That there is a ghost in the theatre!"

"Is there?" Gustave asked, "and is he frightening?"

"Uh huh, he scares everyone and plays mean tricks on them."

"Yeah," Meg chimed, "and once he broke some dancer's leg and once he dropped a backdrop on a singer!"

Gustave gave a nervous chuckle, "Is that so?"

"Oui Monsieur," Antoinette agreed, "it is all true."

"Well, thank you for letting my daughter and yours play together today. I really must be returning home now."

"Bonsoir Monsieur Daae, have a good evening."

"Papa?" Christine asked quietly, "Can I come back here again tomorrow?"

"We will see my little Angel."

The next day Gustave arrived with Christine following him like a second shadow. He was barely able to stifle a yawn and covered his mouth with the back of his hand. He looked more tired then he had the entire week.

"Now be good Christine," he said, kneeling so he was level with the young girl.

"Of course papa," she replied, and then she kissed him on the nose.

"Good morning Monsieur Daae," Antoinette said, Meg dashed in front of her as they approached.

"Christine!" she exclaimed, then she stopped and gave a little curtsey, "hello Monsieur."

"Good morning little Meg," he replied, "Christine why don't you and Meg go off now?"

Christine nodded eagerly and scurried off with the other girl. Gustave stood up again and gave Antoinette a crooked smile.

"You look unwell today," she commented.

"Just tired, life here is terribly hectic."

"That it is, you will get used to it though in time. And in two months we will be holding the Bal Masque."

"That sounds exciting…well I should get going, I still have to tune my violin and pray for a smooth rehearsal."

Antoinette gave a small chuckle, "Indeed monsieur, indeed."

His prayer seemed to actually have some effect on the normally hectic stage. Charlotte was still off by a count and there were a couple of minor collisions and forgotten lines or cues. But all in all it went well they were certainly improving.

"Praying works," Antoinette teased as she stood over the orchestra pit.

Gustave gave a small laugh, it was the first time he had heard the strict ballet mistress joke about anything, "Perhaps, but I wouldn't count on it for every day."

"Ah Madame Giry," Monsieur Reyer said, "I would like to discuss-"

"Charlotte?" she interrupted, "yes I know, I will speak with her."

"That may not necessary," Monsieur Reyer sighed, "you see, I found this."

Antoinette's face dropped when she saw the envelope with the red skull seal. Monsieur Reyer nodded in agreement and handed the envelope to her. She always had to read the messages; it had become almost a second duty.

"No," Monsieur Lefevre groaned, "no, not now."

"I am impressed with the rehearsals," she read aloud, "they are beginning to actually resemble something other then chaos."

"At least he is pleased with something," Monsieur Lefevre sighed.

"However," she continued, "I would like to advise some changes…he wishes Charlotte to be cut from the corps."

"Is that all?" Monsieur Lefevre asked.

"Oui, c'est tout. Oh, and if his advice is not taken seriously then-"

"A disaster, I know…you will talk to Charlotte then?"

"Yes…that is all monsieur!" she snapped.

The manager started at her sharp tone and quickly left the stage, followed quickly by Monsieur Reyer. Antoinette sighed and tore up the note, throwing the pieces onto the stage irritably.

"Madame-"

"Don't!" she snapped, "Just don't…"

Gustave found her in the hall backstage, leaned against the wall with her hand pressed against her forehead. She glanced in his direction when he walked over.

"It was going to be her first performance," Antoinette sighed, "she was very excited."

"Then keep her in the ballet."

"Non Monsieur, I cannot. Besides he is right, she is always a count behind, she cannot keep up. Still, I had hoped that with practise…"

"I don't see why she can't perform. Why do you even listen to this Ghost? Keep her in the performance."

"You do not know Monsieur, you cannot go against his wishes. Terrible things will happen, terrible things!"

"How terrible?" Gustave demanded, suddenly irritated by the woman's superstitious ways, "what is the worst that could possibly happen?"

"He could break her leg or twist her ankle, anything he wished to do. He has done it before, Monsieur Duchamp, the man you replaced…"

"Yes, what about him?"

"The stubborn fool would not leave, of course that was partially Monsieur Reyer's fault. He had no replacement, and he was taking too long to find one. Well the Opera Ghost took the matter into his own hands. He shattered the man's wrist and broke his arm in three places. He will be lucky to ever use his hand again, let alone play."

"I see, so this ghost really is dangerous."

"Of course…I must go and speak with Charlotte now."

"Of course Madame Giry, I am sorry."

"Merci Monsieur, you are very kind."

Gustave smiled as she turned to walk away. It was strange to see her upset; she always seemed so calm and collected.

"Madame Giry?" he called, she turned her head, "would you like to come over to my apartment for supper tonight? I'm sure Christine would be thrilled if you and your daughter joined us."

"That is a very kind offer, and I would be happy to take you up on it. Merci."

Gustave gave a relieved sigh and turned away to head back to the stage. He would have felt a complete fool if she had said no. It had seemed as if she needed a friend, or at least somebody to talk with.

* * *

"You bastard!" Antoinette shouted at the inky blackness of the shadowy chapel, "salaud! Show your face Erik."

"Colourful language Madame," he replied coolly as he slipped from his hiding place.

She regarded the mask figure before her, a smug look on his face, murky eyes mocking her. If it were not for the mask he would have blended in perfectly with high society, tall, lean and terribly handsome, almost cursedly so for the other half of his face.

"I-you-I cannot believe you. This was her first performance and you force me to remove her from the ballet."

"She could still be in the chorus," he droned, "well, that is if she could sing."

"There is no more room in the chorus and you know that Erik, you know everything that happens in this theatre."

"Far from it Madame. I only know what takes place in he performances and the management."

"She has trained her entire life, since she was six years old."

"Perhaps she should train a short while longer then."

"Or maybe she should be given the opportunity to perform."

"I asked her to be removed from the performance, only this one. If I want I can have her removed from the theatre, for both you and I know that she will never make a good dancer."

Antoinette heard her hand hit his cheek and felt her palm sting as it collided with the flesh. Then she felt the vice grip close around her wrist and throw it away with bruising force.

"I would be careful if I were you Madame," he spat, eyes glowing like embers in the darkness, "you do not want to cross the line."

She watched as he melted back into the shadows, too afraid to move. His temper could be so terrible at times. She shook her head to clear it and turned to leave the chapel, praying silently that she had not gone too far.

* * *

**Thank you for the reviews, good to hear from you again Chibi and thanks for the cookie. As for you questions they will all be answered in time, though yes, Christines fatherdoes die. I hope you all enjoyed the latest chapter and please continue to read and review.**


	6. VI

VI

Erik crossed his arms over his chest and hit his heels rhythmically against the side of the stage. It was the night before the performance and the entire theatre seemed completely and utterly silent. The ones with houses or apartments were gone and those in the dormitories were sleeping…well at least supposedly. The ballet dormitories were usually buzzing with excitement thenight before a performance. Tonight would be no different.

Loneliness wasn't the problem, or so he told himself, it was boredom. There was simply nothing to do in a dark and deserted theatre. He considered returning to his lair and composing, or playing or even sketching, but none of that interested him. Sleep; yes that wasn't such a terrible idea. Return home and get some sleep.

With a resolved sigh he got up and started to make his way back to the depths of the theatre, humming softly as he went. He could always write a note to Monsieur Lefevre, after all his salary was due and it would be amusing to give the man a fright the day of the performance. He liked how malleable the manager was, always bending to his every whim.

He skirted to the side when he heard footsteps, then the airy laugh of a woman and a deeper chuckle of a man. Erik gave an irritated growl and swished his cloak loudly, so as to frighten them away.

He heard the man gasp and then the hurried sound of feet. It was amazing what he was able to accomplish in the dark. Then again it had taken several 'unfortunate accidents' and two or three 'sightings'to truly convince everyone that he existed. It was only later that he realized the boy must have been that young Joseph he had so terrified before; the boy truly was a nuisance.

Erik sat down at the desk and wrote out a quick reminder to the manager, and then he slipped it into an envelope and sealed it with the red skull. Stripping off the jacket, waistcoat and cravat he collapsed into bed, staring up at the ceiling above him until sleep overcame him.

The theatre was alive with people backstage and filing into seats. Top hats, black and white suits, sparkling jewels and colourful gowns adorned the patrons and high class in the red velvet chairs.

Erik waited in the dark passage for the opera to begin. Then he would slip into box five to watch the performance and leave before it ended. It certainly wasn't the best way to work, but it kept him from being discovered or caught.

The orchestra was tuning and the ballet dancers were stretching. From where he was he could hear Antoinette calling out instructions and Monsieur the singers warming up their voices. The dull hum of the audience was also audible.

Over all the performance was not bad, though by the final act the audience seemed to have lost their interesting the performance and had taken to gossiping quietly. Occasionally somebody shushed another person. It was when this started that Erik slipped out of the box and started back towards the cellars. Two more days of this and then the next opera would perform for three days, then a short break while the next one was decided.

* * *

"Heading home?" Antoinette asked Gustave.

"Oh, yes," he said heavily.

"Good night then."

"Yes," he agreed, "good night Madame Giry."

As he walked away he began to cough quietly. He had been developing the dry cough for the entire week and the hectic schedule did not allow the time to rest and get better. Still he showed up for each rehearsal and practised the music carefully.

"A wonderful performance," Monsieur Reyer puffed, "don't you think Madame Giry?"

"Oui, it was very good. Two more nights of this and we will be onto the next."

"Yes, well then we will have a break," he sighed.

"Yes, I suppose that is true. Good night Monsieur, I have to get back to my daughter."

"Good night Madame Giry."

Meg was already fast asleep when she got back to her room; it was for the better considering the hour. With a tired sigh Antoinette changed into a nightgown ready to climb into bed. There was no such thing as a break in the theatre. When there were not rehearsals then there were lessons to keep the older dancers in shape and keep up their skills and to teach the younger dancers new skills.

"Maman?" Meg asked drowsily.

"Oui?"

She didn't reply, already fast asleep again. Antoinette leaned over and kissed her daughter on the forehead. Next year she would be a little ballerina, a ballet rat as they were called. Antoinette climbed into bed and pulled the covers up over her body happy to let sleep claim her.

* * *

**Well thank you to my reviewers and Chibi...I am so jealous! And you did spell 'moi' correctly, lol.France and " The Phantom of the Opera"in London in Her Majesty's Theatre, lucky you. Oh and thesequel should be up soon and thank you for the cookies,I do love chocolateand strawberries. Well hope everyone enjoyed teh latest chapter adn you can all look foward to the next one.**


	7. VII

VII

The break turned out to be exactly what Antoinette had expected, a mess of lessons and practises. The only ones who had any time off were the musicians for without a performance there was very little point for them to be at the theatre.

"And one and two and three, very good my little ones."

"Madame can we try pirouettes?" a young girl asked eagerly.

"Not today my dear."

All the dancers moaned in protest and begged her to teach them. Antoinette chuckled quietly and shook her head.

"Please Madame…please?"

"No, look at the time, I must go for supper as must you. Practise is over for the day my dears."

The little ballerinas scurried from the room, giggling and chattering among themselves. As they left Meg pushed her way through the small crowd with Christine. Gustave followed after them

"What are you doing here Monsieur?" Antoinette asked, scooping her daughter up in her arms.

"I had a meeting with Monsieur Lefevre and Monsieur Reyer," he replied, "and Christine insisted on coming with me. Naturally she ran off to find Meg."

"Naturally."

Gustave gave a small bow and picked up his daughter, "Good evening Madame Giry."

Antoinette put Meg down as she tried to wiggle free.

"Christine's papa looks sick," Meg said, "and he coughs a lot."

Antoinette nodded her head in agreement; he was always terribly pale and had dark circles under his eyes. If it weren't for that he might be handsome, he most likely was at some point in his life.

"Come my dear, we must go to supper."

* * *

An apple, it certainly wasn't a meal, but it was better then nothing. With a disgruntled sigh Erik tossed the core into the lake. Boredom, it seemed to eat away at his very existence. There was only so much one cold do as a ghost and most of it was terribly boring. 

"There is no doubt I will go mad soon," he grumbled, "wonderful, now I am even talking to myself!"

Sitting at the organ he depressed several of the keys, allowing the sound to fill the air for a moment before releasing the keys and letting the sound linger like a heavy fog. A new opera was to be decided upon soon, for once he had no say in the performance, not that he had wanted a say. If he had that soft manager would no doubt have given it to him though.

He sighed again and watched as his breath wisped away before his eyes. It was always cold in the winter, especially so far beneath the theatre, but he had become used to it. As long as he wore a robe or a jacket over his clothes it wasn't so bad.

"I wonder if it has snowed yet," he mused, fiddling with the keys of the organ, "hmm, again I am talking to myself…this is truly becoming a habit."

Erik wandered through the lair and picked up a violin. It needed to be tuned from lack of use, but that would give him something to do. Glancing around he attempted to locate the case for the instrument for that was where the bow would be. That in itself seemed a daunting task given the number of objects he had.

"I will be at this until morning," he muttered and started to search.

* * *

Antoinette nearly cursed when the announcement was made to her Monsieur Reyer and Gustave in Monsieur Lefevre's office. The new opera meant another month of preparing, rehearsals, set construction and utter mayhem. Still, it was the operas that kept the theatre in business and food on the table. 

"We will be putting on a performance of _Don Pasquale_," Monsieur Lefevre announced cheerfully, "a comedy by Gaetano Donizetti."

"A comedy?" Monsieur Reyer asked as Antoinette raised her eyebrows.

"Is something the matter Madame Giry?"

"No not at all, in fact I am pleased. We have not performed a comedy in some time."

"Yes well, for one O.G. has not sent us any 'suggestions' as to what we are to perform," he said irritably, "the music will be given out tomorrow and then you may begin to put together the chorus and the ballets."

"Very well monsieur."

"You may leave now," he said, "have a good day Madame Giry, Monsieur Daae, Monsieur Reyer."

"You as well," Antoinette and Gustave murmured. Monsieur Reyer simply nodded his head.

"Your ghost does not like comedies?" Gustave asked once they were away from eh office.

"That is how it appears," Monsieur Reyer replied irritably, "he seems fond of tragedies. I only hope he does not decide to interfere halfway through rehearsals…it is not unlike him."

"We can only hope," Antoinette replied.

"And if he does?" Gustave asked, "What would he do?"

"Who knows!"? Monsieur Reyer exclaimed, "He will do whatever he wishes. He might have us change the opera or simply cause no end of trouble during rehearsals and the performance."

"He would do that?" Gustave asked, it seemed as if there was no end to what the Opera Ghost would do.

"Of course," Antoinette replied, "have you learned nothing in these past weeks? The phantom does whatever he wishes whenever he wishes."

"Maman, maman!" Meg called, running towards her mother as fast as her short legs could carry her, "maman!"

"Slow down or you will fall," Antoinette scolded as Meg stopped in front of her.

"Maman I was looking for you."

"I told you where I would be," Antoinette said, "and I though I told you to stay in the dormitory with the other girls."

"But maman this is important," Meg said, twisting something in her hands, "I found this."

She held up an envelope with a red wax skull seal and handed it to her mother.

"Where did you find this?" Antoinette asked.

"Outside the dormitory," she replied guiltily.

Antoinette opened the envelope and withdrew the letter. It was short and written in the same black ink as always. Still, it was strange for him to travel so far to leave a note.

"Hmm," she said and crumpled up the note before the others could read it.

"What are you doing?" Monsieur Reyer asked, panic in his voice.

"It is nothing of importance," she replied, "simply a thank you for his salary."

"A thank you? He has never thanked us before," Monsieur Reyer objected.

"He is very fickle," she replied, "perhaps he is in a good mood."

Antoinette then took Meg's hand and led the little girl away from the two men. So he wanted to see her, an odd request for him. It had been years since he had personally requested a visit

"I need you to stay in the dormitory this time," Antoinette said sternly.

"Of course maman," she replied.

Antoinette was happy that the chapel was normally empty and this time was no exception. She crossed her arms over her chest and waited. If he wanted to see her he would have to come out.

"Good day Madame," he said silkily from the walls.

"I will not speak with walls Erik, come out if you wish to see me."

She could hear him give a disgruntled sigh as he came out form his hiding place. He didn't like to be forced into the open, there was always to off chance that someone might come down and see him.

"You wanted to see me?" she asked.

"Oh, yes I did," he replied as he sat on the bench, "didn't I?"

"Oui, and quite risky as well. What if someone else had seen the letter?"

"Oh, I trusted that you wouldn't allow that," he replied.

"So, what was so urgent that you risked this meeting?"

"I hear that they have decided on a new opera, a comedy. _Don Pasquale_?"

"Yes."

"How nice, the theatre hasn't performed a comedy in some time."

Antoinette rolled her eyes, he made it sound as if the theatre had had the choice to decide on the previous operas, "It was not as if Monsieur Lefevre had the choice."

"Hmm, well I suppose it will be fine. I don't intend to have it changed at any rate," he replied, staring out the stain glass window as he spoke.

"You still have not answered my question," Antoinette reminded him, "why did you ask to see me?"

"I don't know," he replied, shrugging his shoulders, "company I suppose…it can get terribly boring when there is no one to converse with."

"You have gotten along fine until now."

"You don't believe me then," he stated, "fine, I do not care."

"If you have nothing more to day then I must leave, there are matters to be attended to."

"I am curious, Madame," he said as she turned to leave, "has it snowed yet this year?"

"Non."

He made a thoughtful sound in his throat, "Odd, I thought it would have…farewell then Madame."

Antoinette made her way back up through the theatre; Erik surely had the most interesting moods. Had it snowed? What an odd question for him to have asked. Such things as the weather didn't seem something a ghost would care about, and he was becoming more and more like a ghost as the years went by.

"Madame Giry!" Gustave called, "I have been looking for you."

"Is that so Monsieur Daae?" she asked, "I was in the chapel, what is it you need?"

"Monsieur Lefevre wanted to speak with you."

She couldn't suppress the annoyed sigh that escaped her breast, what could the man possibly want now? Gustave seemed to notice her annoyance for he frowned slightly.

"Fine, thank you Monsieur."

"Of course," he replied with a small bow, "I am returning home now, good day."

"Good day Monsieur Daae."

She was already nearly down the hall when he called, "Madame?" she turned, "if you would be so inclined I would like to invite you over tonight for supper."

"Merci Monsieur Daae, you truly are too kind."

"Is that a yes?"

"Oui monsieur, and thank you."

He gave a small bow, "Five-thirty then."

Antoinette couldn't help but smile; it would be nice to eat a meal in a house instead of a kitchen or dormitory. Besides, rehearsals would start soon and they would all be either too tired or too busy to have any proper conversations or visits. And sometimes it was nice to have discussions with someone who was not always half hidden in shadow.

* * *

**Once again thank you to all my reviewers, love you all. Lotte Rose 37** **he will start noticing Christine in a few chapter so you know. Chibi, sad that you are all out of cookies and to answer your question I have taken french in school since grade 1, french imersion to be correct (Canadian) and I love anime freaks lol I'm one myself actually and most of my friends are. So I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter and will continue to review and I hoep to get some new reviewers as well. Oh and Baby-Vixen so sorry I shall reinstate you in the corps.**


	8. VIII

VIII

Christine skipped through the house singing a Swedish lullaby quietly to herself. She had spent most of the day playing by herself, since Gustave had been in his room for most of the afternoon.

"Papa?" she sang.

"Yes my little angel?"

"I'm hungry."

"Supper will be soon. Madame Giry and Meg will be coming."

"Oh?" her face lit up and she smiled widely, "then I can show her my new doll!"

Gustave laughed, "Yes, you can show her your new doll."

There was a knock on the door and Christine rushed ahead to answer it. She reached up and turned the handle, allowing the door to open.

"Oh, good evening Christine," Antoinette chuckled, "and how are you?"

"Very good, thank you Madame," she said quickly, "hello Meg."

"Good evening Madame Giry," Gustave said, allowing the two girls to rush past him.

"Oui, but a little cold."

"Yes it is. Supper will be served soon, stew I think."

"Hmm, that sounds quite nice on an evening such as this."

After supper Antoinette and Gustave watched as Christine and Meg played on the parlour floor, Meg seemed quite taken with Christine's dolls and Christine was happy to share them. As they played Antoinette and Gustave talked quietly about affairs at the opera.

"The Bal Masque is held every New Year, it is quite an event and we are all allowed to attend."

"Everyone?"

"Oui, well myself and you would be attending along with Monsieur Reyer and most of the other musicians."

"It sounds like fun," he sighed, "and all we have to do is survive through another performance."

"Unfortunately."

"Papa can I sing for them?" Christine asked, scrabbling onto her father's lap.

"Of course Christine."

Christine almost seemed to bubble with excitement, "Can you play when I sing?"

"Of course, excuse me for a moment Madame."

Antoinette nodded as he went to find his violin. When he returned Christine bobbed up and down on her toes.

"What would you like to sing?" he asked.

Christine decided on a Swedish lullaby and Gustave played quietly for her. Antoinette found the little girl's voice terribly beautiful, like a little bird singing in the spring. Not only that but she loved it, her face lit up when she sang. Some day, Antoinette thought, she would become a great singer. Maybe even in the Opera Populaire.

"Was I good papa?" she asked eagerly.

"Very," he replied and kissed her on the top of her head.

Christine nearly squealed with excitement as Gustave set his violin down. Christine yawned and returned to the floor with Meg. Antoinette smiled almost sadly, she hadn't seen Meg so happy in a long time.

"Would you care for some tea?" Gustave asked, "the maid has gone home I think, but I could attempt to make some myself."

"Yes, thank you."

* * *

"Masquerade, duh duh duh duh…" Erik sang quietly and he wrote carefully on the small piece of paper. 

It had been three weeks and the opera was nearly ready to perform and his salary was once again due. He had even been kind enough to give them an extra week, though that was perhaps because he had lost track of time. Composing did that to him, he could spend hours at the organ and not even realize it.

Not only was there to be a performance in three days, but a week after that would be the Bal Masque. Those were always amusing. Hundreds of people dressed in extravagant costumes and bizarre masks, usually getting drunk and making fools of themselves.

"Masquerade, look around there's another mask behind you."

Folding the note he slipped it into the envelope and sealed it. Rehearsals were on at the moment, which meant it would be the perfect time to sneak up and leave the little message. That way it caused a bit of a panic, after all what if the Opera Ghost had decided he did not like the performance?

He chuckled at the thought and headed over to the gondola, he had gotten in the habit of wearing the cloak all the time due to the cold weather.

An endless staircase and a maze of passages lead to the stage. Dancers and singers mulled on it, decorated in costumes, finished and unfinished. Monsieur Lefevre was discussing something with a flustered Monsieur Reyer and Antoinette was standing to the side, looking thoroughly annoyed with the manager. Erik felt a twinge of annoyance as well. The damn fool had never quite grasped the meaning of rehearsal.

With all the grace of a cat Erik climbed up to the bridges above the stage, from there he waited for the opportune moment. That moment would be when Antoinette finally stormed away from the men to speak with the dancers. As he waited Gustave began to cough, a horrible hacking cough that seemed to have gripped his chest over the past weeks.

"Honestly," Antoinette snapped, "Monsieur we must continue the rehearsal, we do not have all day."

"My apologies Madame Giry, but this needs to be settled."

"Non! Monsieur Lefevre please, we are all tired and only want this to be over. You may discuss these matters with Monsieur Reyer in your office later."

"But-"

"Non, we have to finish the rehearsal."

Erik chuckled as Monsieur Lefevre hurried from the stage. Monsieur Reyer also looked vaguely amused, though it was hard to tell with that man.

"Good, now where were we," Monsieur Reyer said, obviously flustered by the distraction.

Erik sighed and dropped the note, allowing it to flutter to the ground noiselessly as he slipped away from the scene. It was obvious that it would not be read for some time and he did not have the patience to wait for that to happen.

* * *

**Hello again and thank you to my reviewers. Lotte Rose 37, yes he is lonely. PersonallyI think that living under a theatre would get a little lonely now and then. And yes, there is a little romance between our ballet mistress and Monsieur Daae. Well I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. I look foward to all your reviews and maybe even some new ones. **


	9. IX

IX

"I hate performances," Gustave groaned as he attempted to tie his cravat.

"Hmm, we all do. At least those of us behind the scenes," Antoinette agreed, "a noisy crowd, nervous performers and then the mayhem that ensues afterwards."

"Yes…"

"Let me do that," Antoinette said.

Gustave allowed her to tie the cravat, something he was not very good at. When she was finished he thanked her for the help. Then he picked up his violin and made his way to the orchestra pit.

"Do not forget to stretch," Antoinette reminded the dancers, "I do not want any injuries on stage."

She watched as the girls warmed up, going through their routine stretches and arm positions before the show. The sound of the orchestra tuning was in the background along with the hum of the audience as they gossiped before the show. The comedy was in three acts, which meant two ballets. A full night for her and the dancers.

"Good luck tonight," Monsieur Reyer said as he hurried past.

"You as well Monsieur."

* * *

Erik sat through nearly half of the second act before he was overcome by boredom. The opera was amusing, or at least the audience seemed to find it so. He made a mental note that the next time the theatre chose to perform a comedy he would intervene, or at least not attend the performance. 

It was a more difficult affair to leave in the middle of a performance. The backstage was crowded and impossible to traverse. Instead he took a longer way, avoiding the backstage and entering one of the many secret passages that littered the walls of the Opera Populaire.

By the time he made it back to the lair the opera was almost over. He could hear the final quartet, a benefit of having a house nearly directly under the stage. As he sat down at the organ he listened intently for the applause. At least this story had a happy ending, with the tragedies everyone died, then they got up and sang about it. When he actually thought about it that was a bit amusing. He decided that if he ever wrote an opera if someone died they were to remain dead.

* * *

"Congratulations on a wonderful performance Madame Giry, Monsieur Reyer," Monsieur Lefevre beamed, "and no trouble from our friend." 

"Merci Monsieur, "Antoinette replied, "It did in fact go well."

"Yes, rare, but always welcome," Monsieur Reyer agreed.

"Well, two days and then the masquerade. I hope you are both prepared for that."

"Of course," Antoinette replied, moving away from them, "we always are."

She was actually very surprised about Erik's lack of involvement in the opera. Only one note, and that was more of a reminder and complaint with no instruction as to any changes. She saw Gustave preparing to leave and waved to him.

"A good performance tonight," he said as she came over.

"Oui, and fortunately we do not have to do it again."

"A break for me at least," he sighed.

"Oui, but I may give the girls a day off and spend some time with Meg and some friends."

"If you do then you are welcome to visit. Christine would like to see Meg again and my patron makes terribly dull company. When he is around that is."

Antoinette chuckled, "Bonsoir Monsieur Daae."

"Bonsoir.

Antoinette could hear him start to cough as he left. A few days rest would be good for him, a time to get better. With a sigh she made her way back to her room where Meg would be waiting.

"Maman!" Meg exclaimed, embracing her mother's legs.

"What is my dear," she asked, trying to keep her balance.

"I missed you maman, I thought that you would never come back."

"The opera was not that long."

"Was the Opera Ghost there?" she asked nervously.

"Most likely, but no one has ever seen him."

"Some people have," Meg, argued, "Joseph said so and some of the dancers and stage hands…they said it was terribly ugly!"

"Well, one cannot believe everything they hear, they might be rumours," she replied knowingly. After all Erik wore his mask every time he came up. Perhaps he had taken it off to frighten one or two people in the early days, but as a general rule it always remained on.

"Oh…have you ever seen him?"

"I cannot say," she replied, "maybe I have and did not know. After all, no one knows who the ghost is."

"Oh…"

"Time for bed mon cher, it is late."

Meg pouted but quickly scampered into her bed. Antoinette wondered if her child was too curious for her own good. After all, if you searched enough you would eventually find the ghost, wouldn't you?But that was foolish, Erik's life remained so secretive it would take a genius or someone who already knew his secrets to find him in the vast labyrinth beneath the theatre.

Meg followed her mother eagerly through the theatre. With the dancers having a day off it meant that she could spend an entire day with her. Or at least close to an entire day.

"Maman are we going to go shopping?" she asked eagerly.

"Hmm, I do not know. It is cold out and we do not want to get sick."

"But some of the dancers are going shopping," Meg objected.

"That is there choice. Do you want to go shopping?"

"Yes!"

Antoinette laughed lightly, "Very well mon cher, we shall go shopping."

Antoinette spent the rest of her morning and most of her afternoon shopping in Paris. She bought very little, a sweet and some hair ribbons for Meg, which was all.

"Are you going to that," Meg asked, pointing at the sign for the Bal Masque at the front of the theatre.

"Oui."

"Oh, so you get to dress up in fancy clothes then?"

"Yes I do my dear."

"Do I get to go?"

"Not yet, in a few years maybe."

"How many?"

"Too many questions Meg. Hurry up to the dormitory and show what you got to the others. I have to go see someone."

"Monsieur Lefevre?"

"Go, run along."

Meg scampered off, eager to show her new ribbons to the other little girls. Antoinette watched her go and then made her way to the chapel. She was curious as to what Erik thought about the previous night's performance. He had said nothing yet, and that was strange.

The chapel appeared as devoid as life as usual. No one ever seemed to enter it to pay homage to the deceased loved ones. Antoinette took a moment to light the candle for her deceased husband. Chances were that Erik would not even be near enough to hear if she called for him.

"Praying again, are we Madame?" Erik's sultry voice drifted through the small room.

"Good evening Erik."

"Good evening."

"Do you plan on showing yourself?"

"Of course, Madame."

It took a couple of minutes, but he did appear and sat on the bench by the large stain glass window.

"Did you enjoy the performance?" Antoinette asked.

"It was…decent," he replied, "but not something I particularly enjoyed. The ballets were nice, if that's what you mean."

"I take it that the Opera Populaire will not be performing many more comedies then."

"One never knows, after all I could decide on a whim that I enjoy comedies and have the theatre do an entire assortment of them."

Antoinette rolled her eyes as he began to hit his heels rhythmically against the stone bench. Sometimes his childish behaviour and proneness to sarcasm was quite off putting.

"Will I have a note anytime soon?"

"No," he replied simply, "the masquerade is coming and I have decided to give your manager a small breather before I next insult him."

"Hmm, you believe that if you will," she replied. Honestly the longer he waited to send the note the more worried Monsieur Lefevre would become, "Well in that case I should be going."

"Oh…"

She turned her head in surprise. He sounded disappointed that she was leaving, "Could it be that our infamous Opera Ghost is getting a bit lonely under the theatre?"

"Don't be foolish Madame," he replied curtly, "loneliness is certainly something I do not suffer from. Boredom however, well that is an entirely other matter. This place can be terribly tedious at times."

"Read a book," she suggested, "and please stop that. It is terribly annoying to have someone beating his or her heels constantly against a wall. It is a terribly annoying habit."

Erik stopped the beating of his heels and sighed, "Very well Madame, good night then."

"Good night Erik."

He waited until she was gone to let out an exasperated sigh, kicking the wall rather firmly with his heel. But then there was the sound of footsteps on the stairs again and he evaporated into the dark passage. Not many people entered the chapel, but that didn't mean nobody ever did.

* * *

**Ooh, many reviews thank you all. Lotte Rose 37, yes that's what I was thinking when I started to write the romance, after all they would have had to have been at least friend I just took it further. Chibi, haIdon't understand Japanese, well at least not a lot...oh well at least you bought more cookies and keep it up, french is hard to learn, and thank you. I do like to be original! InuLvr7 welcome back, I was wondering where you had gotten to. ANyways now I've rambled enough so hope you enjoyed the chapter and don't forget to review.**


	10. X

X

Antoinette watched as the colourful gowns and costumes swirled together on the floor. Most of the colour came from the women, but some of the men had on navy blues or whites. The more daring young men wore more vibrant colours, masks hiding most of their faces, though not all of them.

"Quite the night," Monsieur Lefevre beamed, "don't you think Madame Giry?"

"Indeed," she replied, "I must admit that I am impressed, as I am every year, that the entire affair manages to take place."

"Always sceptical," Monsieur Lefevre sighed, "aren't you Madame Giry?"

"Old habits I suppose."

He moved along to find friends or patrons he wanted to talk to, though it would be difficult to identify some among all the masks. Still, it was a night for celebration, a new year.

Music played in the background and Antoinette quickly found Monsieur Reyer. The man, for once in his life, actually appeared to be enjoying himself. A wide grin on his face as he watched the crowd before him.

"A splendid evening, no?" he asked as she approached.

"Yes, it is quite splendid at that. Tell me, have you seen Monsieur Daae this evening?"

"No, not yet. Though I suspect he will be here. He seemed quite excited about the prospect of a masquerade ball. Were you looking for him Madame Giry?"

"Oui, thank you. Enjoy your time Monsieur Reyer."

"Yes, yes of course."

"Madame Giry!"

Antoinette turned at the sound of his voice. Gustave was dressed in a dark suit with a bicolour eye mask, one side black the other silver.

"Good evening Monsieur Daae," she said warmly, "I have been…well it is good to see you."

"You as well, a gorgeous dress Madame Giry, and a mask to match it."

Antoinette smiled, the dress was not extravagant simple black and gold and the mask was a black and gold butterfly on a stick, "Merci Monsieur."

"Care to dance?"

"Of course."

Gustave led her onto the dance floor among the other dancing couples, he couldn't help but smile and Antoinette could not help herself either. He was handsome, especially in the fine eveningwear; it complimented his dark hair and eyes.

"May I cut in?" Antoinette nearly started at the silky voice, a voice she knew too well.

"Oh, of course Monsieur."

"Merci."

Antoinette looked up into the murky eyes of the phantom, Erik, out in public. She could see the amusement there at her shock as he took her hand and placed his other hand gently on her waist. He was dressed just as he would be any other day, dark clothing and the opera cloak, white mask covering half of his face.

"I did not know you could dance."

"I can do many things Madame…if fact I can do anything."

"And what are you doing here? If you do not mind my asking."

"I was bored, and this seemed so much more amusing then simply reading a book…do not worry Madame, I don't intend to interfere with the event," he added in an afterthought.

"You are a horrible dancer."

"It is hard to dance and talk at the same time."

Antoinette sighed and allowed him to lead her from the dance floor to where Gustave was standing. He glanced up at Erik but did not pay him any more attention then that. At a masquerade he was just another face in fine clothes a mask.

"Monsieur Daae, I would like to introduce you to an old friend, Erik, meet Gustave Daae."

"A pleasure," Gustave replied, offering his hand.

"Yes…of course," Erik replied, looking at the hand as if it might bite, "a pleasure."

"I have known Erik since we were young," Antoinette said.

"Truly?" Gustave asked, "Well, I was about to get a drink, would you like one Madame?"

"Yes, thank you."

"Oh, pardon my manners. Would you like a drink monsieur?"

"No."

It was strange for Antoinette to see Erik out in the real world. He had been living in shadows for so long it was almost as if he had become one himself, a true ghost in the darkness. But he never strayed far from her or Gustave, though he did go off once or twice it was only for a short time and it was never very far. Once he had actually circled the entire room.

The evening wore on and the dancing slowed. Most people were now talking or preparing to leave. Many of the masks had been removed; Antoinette and Gustave had removed theirs.

"I think its time I should be leaving," Erik sighed "good night Madame, Monsieur."

"So soon?" Gustave asked.

"It is late," Erik replied, eyes scanning the crowd, "and I should leave…perhaps I will see you again soon Madame."

"Bonsoir Erik," Antoinette said.

He gave a small bow before sweeping away through the mingling crowd. Antoinette allowed a small sigh of relief as he vanished. Whenever he was around there seemed to be an underlying threat that something might happen.

"Odd fellow isn't he?" Gustave asked at length.

"That he is," Antoinette replied.

Gustave smiled slightly. The man was odd, he seemed to emit an aura of power and control yet he remained with them for the entire evening. In fact he had followed Antoinette almost like a puppy that is afraid to venture away from the safety of its master. Still, he had said very little and shown almost no interest in the affairs of others.

"You said his name is Erik?" he asked.

"His name was Erik," she replied, "and no, there is no last name, none that I know of at least."

"Strange."

"Oui, but we have already been over that…one last dance before the night is out?"

Gustave smiled and nodded his head, "It would be my honour, Antoinette."


	11. Part Two: The Angel of Music

Part Two: The Angel of Music

I

Erik watched the stage dully, the performance wasn't very good. The opera house had just replaced the old lead soprano with a new one; she was good, he decided. She just hadn't had enough time to rehearse properly for the role and it was evident in the performance. He gave a slight grimace and decided to leave.

Antoinette sighed heavily at the end of the opera. Monsieur Lefevre would hear about this, and it would not be anything good. She wondered hoe long Erik had actually stayed, most likely not very long.

"That was terrible," she said as Gustave approached.

"Yes, no doubt we will be hearing from the ghost about it."

"No doubt."

"Well, I should go and find Christine, do you know where she is?"

"I believe her and Meg are in my room at the moment. You know where it is, I must go and speak with Monsieur Lefevre."

"Of course, thank you Antoinette," he leaned in and gave her a small kiss before hurrying off to find his daughter.

Antoinette smiled to herself and hurried off to find Monsieur Lefevre. It had been five months since the masquerade and she was now certain of her feeling towards Gustave. She wondered why it had taken so long; maybe it was reluctance after Jules, and fear of losing someone else she loved. Whatever the reason she was glad she was over it.

* * *

Gustave made his way through the busy backstage and found his way to Antoinette's room. At the door he could hear the two children talking and giggling. He knocked once and opened it. 

"Papa!" Christine cried and scrambled up from the floor.

"My little angel," he chuckled, "how are you? Oh and hello little Meg."

"Hello Monsieur," Meg chimed, scrabbling up after Christine, "where's maman?"

"She had to speak with Monsieur Lefevre."

"'Bout the ghost?" they both asked, wide-eyed.

"I'm not entirely sure…come Christine, we have to go home now."

"Aww, but papa can't we stay here again? Its fun to stay in the dormitory with Meg."

Gustave gave a small chuckled and shook his head, "Not tonight my angel, I'm very tired."

Christine pouted, "Oh…fine, bye Meg."

"Bye-bye."

Christine skipped ahead of her father as they walked to the exit. He had been tired a lot lately. Almost everyday he came home and was too tired to play with her or to play for her. He also coughed a lot and it was no longer the dry cough he had had for so many months.

"Ritorni omai nel nostro core la bella gioia ed il piacer," she sang, stumbling over the strange Italian words. She had been singing the same line of the opera for the past week. It was the only line she knew, "Ritorni omai nel nostro core la bella gioia ed il piacer!"

Gustave chuckled quietly and stifled a cough, she had a beautiful little voice and he loved to hear it. Maybe that was why that boy had started calling her Little Lotte at the house by the sea. He had certainly loved to listen to her sing.

"Papa, what does the it mean?" she asked.

"What does what mean?"

"Ritorni omai nel nostro core la bella gioia ed il piacer," she sang again, doing a little twirl as she walked.

"I do not know Christine."

"Oh…" it didn't matter to her. She continued to sing all the way down the hall and to the exit.

Erik wandered through the empty hall, not wanting to return to his lair so early. After all there was nothing to do down there but write and sleep and occasionally plot. Instead he wandered the halls of the empty theatre, perhaps trying to stumble upon something interesting.

Ritorni omai nel nostro core la bella gioia ed il piacer. The verse drifted to his ears. It was a beautiful voice, though young and obviously untrained. He gave a slight chuckle; the little girl sounded better then the actual singers on this particular evening.Maybe one day she would sing in an opera, or become a member of the ballet, wither way it did not mean much to him.

The verse drifted to his ears. It was a beautiful voice, though young and obviously untrained. He gave a slight chuckle; the little girl sounded better then the actual singers on this particular evening.Maybe one day she would sing in an opera, or become a member of the ballet, wither way it did not mean much to him.

* * *

Antoinette watched as Monsieur Lefevre greeted and spoke with the patrons and the other guests to the theatre. He was smiling as he always did, but tonight it looked more strained then usual. No one said anything about the performance; it was all gossip and formalities. 

"Ah, excuse me please," he said, catching Antoinette's eye, "I must speak with my ballet mistress for a moment."

The elderly man he was talking to gave a small grunt and a nod. Monsieur Lefevre took it as a good bye and hurried over to the ballet mistress.

"We're doomed," he moaned, "do you know what he will do for that performance?"

"I cannot say for certain, but I suspect it will be bad."

"Bad, bad? It will be terrible, I would not be surprised if he demands a new soprano, tenor, and chorus!"

"Nonsense," Antoinette sighed, "it was not anyone's fault. She simply did not have enough time to prepare properly for the role."

Monsieur Lefevre shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose; "We will feel his wrath for this…I can only hope that I can buy his happiness."

"You plan to increase his salary?"

"Shh! Perhaps," he said, looking over his shoulder at the diamond dripping patrons, "but I would rather not discuss this around our patrons."

"Very well, I have to go now."

"Well, good night Madame Giry."

"Oui, good night Monsieur Lefevre, have pleasant dreams."

She heard him scoff as she walked away. No doubt he would get very little or no sleep, he was a terrible worrier. But then again he had plenty of reasons to worry and most of them rested in the hands of a rather immature man who lived under the stage.

* * *

Antoinette took her time as she headed towards the stage. She could hear the hustle and bustle of the beginnings of rehearsal. Monsieur Reyer calling instructions to the musicians and singers, the dancers gossiping and giggling, Gustave coughing and the stagehands preparing props and other scenery. 

"M-madame Giry," Monsieur Lefevre stammered, "Did he…you know?"

"He sent a note," she replied, brandishing the envelope.

"And?"

"I have not read it, I figured you would want to know what it says as well."

"Then go ahead," Monsieur Reyer encouraged.

Antoinette opened the envelope and pulled out the paper inside. Unfolding it she said, "He is very disappointed in the performance and hoped that it will not happen again. He would like to inform you that it was not the new soprano's fault, but yours, Monsieur Lefevre, for replacing the old one in the middle of rehearsals. He would like to say that if this should ever happen again you should be afraid for a disaster beyond your imagination will occur."

"There aren't many disasters beyond my imagination anymore," he groaned, "thank you Madame Giry, you may all go back to rehearsals."

Many of the performers shook their heads and returned to their gossiping. As long as the implications were that nothing would happen then they didn't seem to care. It was only when he openly threatened them all that they would panic, travel in large groups or, in some cases, quit.

"Alright," Antoinette called, "start your warm ups and we will begin in five minutes."

Tonight would be the second performance and final of _Giulio Cesare_, hopefully the performance would improve. It not then hopefully Erik would not punish the theatre.

"Would you care to go to supper tonight?" Gustave asked, jogging to catch up with Antoinette.

"Hmm?"

"Supper," he repeated, "tonight, after the performance?"

"Of course," she replied with a smile, "if you want Christine can stay with Meg in the ballet dormitories."

"Wonderful, she has been talking about how Meg is going to be a dancer for the past week."

"How sweet, I will see you after the performance then, I have a lesson to teach."

Gustave nodded and waited until she was out of earshot to cough. It was becoming increasingly painful and his patron had informed him to see a doctor. However there was no time for that, not with rehearsals and performances and Christine. Next week, he kept telling himself, next week he would see a doctor.

* * *

**Grrr, my stupid computer has done wierd things to my e-mail so I had to change my adress, but its all good now... Hope you all enjoyed the chapter and I'm glad you all liked Erik at the masquerade. Chibi, wow not much to say, but look I updated and thanks for the cookies, they keep me going! Lotte Rose 37 this chapter should have made you happy** **and InuLvr7 there will be ECness eventually, but not much since this takes place before the movie and all that stuff. So read, review and any of you who haven't read my other story why don't you give it a shot as well.**


	12. XII

**XI**

Erik heard the cough before he saw the source. The violinist with the little girl practically doubled over as the violent cough wracked his body. He watched with curiosity and concern when the man pulled the handkerchief away from his mouth to reveal tiny red flecks.

Then it started again, the horrible hacking cough. Without thinking Erik stepped out of the shadows and wrapped a hand around the man's middle, supporting him so he wouldn't fall over. Gustave, that was his name, Gustave Daae, the man Antoinette seemed to like so much.

"Blood," Erik murmured, looking at the once pure white handkerchief, "that is not a good sign Monsieur Daae."

"No," he rasped, "I don't suppose it is."

"I suggest you see a doctor, the Opera Populaire will no longer need your services so needn't worry about having time."

"And who are you to decide that?" Gustave asked, turning to see the face of his helper.

Erik waited a moment and recognition dawned on the other man's face, "I am who I am," Erik replied.

"You're Antoinette's friend," Gustave coughed, "the one from the masquerade…Erik?"

"You have a good memory Monsieur Daae, however I think you may have gotten my name wrong…I will leave you now, please see a doctor, it would be terrible to leave a young girl alone in the world. As I said, your services at the Opera Populaire are no longer needed. I remain, monsieur, your obedient servant, O.G."

Erik started to back into the shadows again but paused, "Oh and it would be most unfortunate for you if anyone should hear about our little encounter, after all I have an unusual skill at causing accidents."

Erik made his way through the passages, down through the cellars until he reached the lake. Then man would not listen, he knew that, therefore a note would be needed. He laughed to himself, a note that demanded the firing of the best violinist the theatre had ever or would ever have, the manager wouldn't listen either. Still, he would try.

* * *

The next day at rehearsal Gustave waited impatiently for the inevitable note that would demand his resignation. Sure enough Antoinette came across the stage looking grave, an envelope in one hand. 

"A note?" he croaked.

"You sound quite ill today Monsieur Daae," Monsieur Reyer commented, he had noticed the man's serious decline in health.

"A note," Antoinette replied, prying open the envelope. Monsieur Lefevre came up behind her.

"Outrageous!" he cried, "Has he gone completely off his rocker?"

"What does it say?" Monsieur Reyer demanded.

"He wants us to fire Monsieur Daae! No, I refuse and I do not care what happens. For once we must ignore the demands of our resident ghost."

"What does it say," Gustave began, "if I don't leave?"

"Nothing," Antoinette replied, looking shocked, "no threats, nothing. Simply that he suggests you leave."

Erik watched from the flies in mild disgust, no one seemed to notice the man's poor health. In fact he was a little confused as to why he, himself, cared about it. Perhaps it was because he had that little girl, though he could not remember when he had discovered that. Either way he hadn't even been able to threaten him, after all it would be terribly hypocritical to make him leave because of his health and then threaten to kill him.

* * *

"I'm getting soft," he said to himself and then with a small swish of his cloak began to make his way back to the lair. 

"What's wrong Christine?" Meg asked, her friend seemed sad and she wanted to know why.

"I dunno," she replied sulkily, "papa hasn't been feeling good, he can't even play with me anymore."

"Oh…he'll get better," Meg encouraged.

"I hope so."

Meg got up and hugged her friend tightly. She didn't want Christine to be sad, "Why don't you sing for him? That would make him feel good."

Christine brightened up at the idea, "That's a good idea! I'll sing him the prettiest song I know."

Meg giggled and nodded her head, "Sing it for me first, that way you'll have some practise."

Christine nodded and stood up beside Meg. Clearing her throat and taking a deep breath she began to sing a Swedish folk song her father had taught her. Meg listened attentively; she liked Christine's voice, though she didn't understand the words.

"You're really good," she said confidently, "some day you should be an opera singer!"

Christine blushed slightly at the compliment, "Thank you."

"Hurry, we'll go find my maman and your papa and you can sign for them!" Meg exclaimed.

The two girls dashed from the room, hurrying towards the stage where they thought their parents would be. Neither of them noticed the eyes that seemed to glow from the shadows.

* * *

**Whew, another chapter done and posted. Lotte Rose 37, don't worry about being a pain in the neck, I need to hear some complaints to know what to improve upon, and I am glad you liked the chapter, I hope the latest has given you a bit of an Erik dose and I plan to develop Meg and Christine's friendship over the next few chapters. Chibi, yes time is evil and Gustave will be dying...I think in the next chapter, as for the sequel (grins) well I have posted the first few chapter, though they are rather short. Thanks for all the reviews, keep them coming and yay cookies!**


	13. XIII

XIII

Erik sat with his chin rested on his knee. He didn't listen; no one ever seemed to listen to anything important. It had taken only three days before he was bed ridden, dying.

"Life," he mused, "it's a terribly fragile thing."

With effort he rose and made his way over to the organ. He brushed aside several papers before sitting down on the bench and stared at the ivory keys. It didn't really matter, he supposed, after all if the man was stupid enough to continue working as he coughed up blood then it was his own fault.

"I wanna see papa!" Christine screamed.

"Dear please, shush, he is sleeping. He needs to sleep," the maid said, attempting not too successfully to quiet the child.

"No!" Christine cried and tried to push past the older woman, "I wanna see papa…papa!"

She fell back on the floor and sniffled quietly, tears running down her pale cheeks. She missed him, for three days no one would let her see him for more then a few minutes and then he was asleep.

"Oh dear," the maid cooed, pulling out a handkerchief, "there, there little one."

The maid wiped the tears off her cheeks and smiled sadly at her.

"I want my papa," Christine hiccoughed as the maid wiped her nose.

"I know dear. You'll see him soon, alright?"

Her bottom lip quivered as she nodded her head, "Uh huh."

Antoinette arrived to find Christine sitting on the floor sniffling quietly, the maid sitting not far off.

"Good evening Madame Giry," the other woman greeted wearily.

"Is it?" Antoinette asked heavily, "Christine?"

"I wanna see papa," she replied quietly, "can I see him now?"

"Oui," Antoinette replied, "Come here."

Christine went over to Antoinette and allowed her to wipe her face and nose. She had come every night to see her father and was the only one who would allow her inside the room as well.

"Not long tonight," the doctor said gravely.

Antoinette nodded and sheparded the little girl into the room ahead of her. Christine immediately dashed to the side of the bed.

"Papa?"

"Christine," his voice was weak and strained, "my little angel…"

He coughed and Antoinette flinched at the sound. The doctor had told them not to stay long, he was dying, she knew that and so did he.

"Gustave," it was all she could say.

"I love you Antoinette," he whispered.

"I know," she replied, tears choking her, "and I love you."

"Christine?" he asked to get the little girl's attention, "when I am in heaven child I will send to you the angel of music."

"Heaven?" she sniffed.

"I love you so much Christine, be patient and he will come to you."

"Alright."

"You should go now," the doctor said, "please."

Antoinette nodded and guided Christine out the door and past a priest. She closed her eyes against the burn of tears.

"Good night Madame Giry," the maid said.

"I will take Christine to the theatre tonight," Antoinette informed her, "you deserve a rest and if she is with a friend then it may take her mind off-"

She was cut off when Gustave began to cough; the horrible sound seemed to reverberate through the entire house. Christine slapped her hands over her ears and began to whimper.

"This," Antoinette finished and hurried Christine out the door. It was the last time either of them would see Gustave.

* * *

**Not a very long chapter but I hope you enjoyed it. Chibi, yes we can split the cookies and look Gustave has died. And yes I Erik was all fluffy and sweet, gotta love it and don't worry he won't stay soft forever, it was a moment of weakness! Lotte Rose 37, it was good advice and I will be developing the friendship more, though you're right its hard to write a conversation between six year olds, it takes forever and yes Erik is a big ole (really hot) softy (heehee love it). Read and review and enjoy etc.**


	14. XIV

XIV

It was impossible to console Christine for the first few days. It was only after the funeral that she was even able to talk to the small child.

"I know it hurts," she said gently, there was no reply, "but there is something you can do. Come with me Christine."

Christine followed her down to the small chapel. A picture of her father had been put there with a candle above it. Christine touched the small picture of his face with her small fingers.

"You may light the candle and pray to him," Antoinette explained. Then she showed her how to light the candle.

"I miss papa," she murmured.

"I know little one, I know."

On their way back Monsieur Lefevre called Antoinette over to him. She bent down and told Christine to go on to the dormitory, Meg would be there.

"How is she?" he asked quietly, not wanting the child to over hear.

"I cannot tell. She misses him a lot. He was her life."

"Does she have any family?"

"Not that I know of."

"Poor girl," he said shaking his head, "what will we do Madame Giry?"

"She is seven years old, I would like her to train here in the theatre, become a dancer."

"I see…but if she has any family-"

"Then they may take her home, but otherwise this would be best."

Monsieur Lefevre nodded him head gravely, "Alright Antoinette, do as you see fit."

Christine sat on the small bed, knees pulled up to her chest and arms wrapped around her legs. Meg sat beside her.

"Don't be sad Christine, maman will take care of you…and I'm here," she added hopefully.

Christine sniffled softly and Meg wrapped her arms around her, hugging her tightly and kissing her on the cheek. It always made her mother fell better if she was sad or tired.

"Good evening," Antoinette said as she entered the room.

"Maman, Christine is sad and I can't make her feel better."

"I know my dear, she will be sad for a while. Her papa died."

"Oh…poor Christine," she said sadly, sniffling herself.

"It will all be fine my little ones. Christine, Monsieur Lefevre is going to let you stay here in the theatre. You will live in the dormitories with Meg and become a dancer."

Christine nodded her head, hitting her chin on her knees as she did so. It didn't matter to her; all that mattered was that her papa had left her. But he had made a promise, he had told her he would send her an angel, but so far nothing had happened, no one had come to her.

"See," Meg said hopefully, "you get to dance just like me."

Antoinette patted her on the shoulder, "You will start lessons tomorrow. I will get you everything you will need. Good night girls."

Christine sniffled softly and rested her chin on her knees; Meg moved closer again and hugged her.

Do you miss your papa Christine?"

"Uh huh."

"I miss him too," Meg sniffled.

The next morning Antoinette made sure that Christine got new practice skirts and ballet slippers. Meg helped her to put them on and showed her some of the few things she had already learned.

"Quiet down little ones," Antoinette said, "and we will begin the lesson."

She smiled as the children immediately quieted, eager to start their lesson. Antoinette noticed though that Christine didn't look at all enthusiastic, of course she hadn't expected her to be. Still she had hoped that she might cheer up a little.


	15. XV

**XV **

Erik lay on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. He had spent the past week doing surprisingly little in the life of the theatre. He had attended two performances and sent his opinions on them, stolen some bread and cheese and spent the rest of his time composing. He even surprised himself with the fact that he hadn't even terrified the chorus.

"What day is it?" he wondered aloud.

It didn't really matter, still he wanted to know and resigned himself to go up and see. Taking his cloak and putting it on he climbed into the gondola and began to make his way through the labyrinth.

Antoinette lit the candle for her husband and sat on the small stone bench. The past week had been surprisingly uneventful other then the performances. Even those didn't cause as much trouble as they normally would and the chorus finally had a night off.

Poor Christine was still terribly sad over the death of her father. Antoinette had hoped that the busyness of the opera house would distract her somewhat, but it hadn't. She had no other friends except Meg and didn't try to make any either. Every day she would dance and then go to the chapel, and then she would either sit by herself or play quietly with Meg.

"I wish I knew what to do," she sighed. When Jules had died Meg had been too young to really know, and even now she didn't remember her father.

"About what?" Erik's voice echoed from above.

"Why don't you come out," Antoinette suggested.

"As you wish Madame."

He came from the shadows and, to Antoinette's surprise, sat down on the bench beside her. She raised her an eyebrow slightly, Erik was certainly not one to purposely get close to someone.

"Well?" he asked, "what do you wish to know?"

"Nothing you can help with. Your genius does not extend to such regions. I am worried about Christine Daae, the daughter of-"

"I know who her father was," Erik interrupted, "and why are you worried about her? She seemed to be a healthy enough child."

"Perhaps, but she misses her father something terrible. I had hoped that she might have cheered up somewhat, it has been two weeks…I am just concerned."

"I see…well perhaps she just needs time. It seemed to me as if her father was the only one she had, her best friend in a manner of speaking. To lose someone that close to you would be terribly devastating, no matter how young."

"Hmm, maybe you are right. Though I do not know how you would know about such things, at times you truly amaze me."

"I have seen things," he shrugged, "I do more in this theatre then simply terrorize the resident and make demands you know? I spend an unseemly amount of time observing its occupants and their lives."

"Their personal lives?"

"Come now Madame, do you really think so little of me?"

"Quite truthfully, I do not know what to think of you."

"Is that so Madame?"

"Unfortunately. I have known you for such a long time and I still cannot understand the way you think at times. In fact I find it quite strange to talk with you like this."

"Like what?" Erik asked, leaning against the window behind him.

"As if you were a normal man," she replied.

"I am normal!" Erik shouted, standing up and glaring at her, "I am just like everybody else on the inside, is that so hard to believe Madame, is it?"

Antoinette was frightened by his sudden outburst, she could see his hands clenched at his sides, hands hat she knew were capable of murder. His temper was ungovernable, that much she knew, if he was angry then he could not stop himself and that frightened her more then anything.

"Erik," she began weakly, not wanting to anger him further.

"Go away!" he snarled, "Go away! I want you out!"

Antoinette sighed and headed for the stairs, "I did not mean-"

"Go," his voice was barely above a whisper.

She heard the quiet sound of the trap door opening and knew that he had left as well. Back into the shadows of the theatre. Then she heard the tiny footsteps of Christine as she came around the corner.

"Bonjour Madame," she said in her tiny voice.

"My dear," she hoped her voice did not sound as weak as it felt, "where are you going?"

"To pray."

Antoinette thought about saying something, unsure if she wanted the little girl in the chapel while Erik might still be so near. But he had never hurt a child before and she knew somehow that he never would.

"Be quick then, supper will be soon."

"Alright," she murmured, nodding her head and hurrying on down the stairs to the small chapel.

* * *

Wow, took me long enough to update eh? Sorry about that, my dad has been playing some game on the computer and I haven't been able to get on like, at all! Seriously I finished the end of a video game and read the last 100 or sopages of a book while waiting one night and still didn't get on. Anyways, hope you enjoyed the new chapters and please read and review as always. Love you all! 


	16. XVI

XVI

Christine lit the candle carefully, just as Antoinette had shown her. Then she kneeled and folded her small hands to pray to her father and ask once again where her angel was and why he hadn't sent him to her yet. Small pearly tears rolled down her cheeks and onto the floor.

"You promised," she sniffled, "where is my angel papa? Where is my angel of music?"

Erik wiped angrily at his eyes, after so many years he thought himself immune to hurt, but it seemed that he wasn't. He didn't even know why it hurt so much, to be called strange; he had been called far worse in his life.

Erik was about to leave when she entered, lighting the candle and kneeling to pray. She was so tiny and he immediately knew that it was the child Antoinette had spoken of. She spoke quietly but he could hear her, she was waiting for something or someone, an angel of music.

Watching her kneeling in front of the candle and praying somehow reminded Erik of himself, she was all alone in the world. With a bored sigh he turned away from the scene, that's when she began to sing. Her voice was so small and pure, just like that of a little angel. A lost little angel, such a sad thing really, one should never be alone in the world, not even the devil's child.

"You promised me papa," she sniffled, "you promised…"

It nearly caused his heart to break and before he could think he called to her, "Wandering child so lost so helpless, yearning for my guidance…"

Her little eyes widened and she let out a small squeak before dashing out of the chapel. Erik sighed and slumped against the wall, of course it would frighten her, walls did not normally sing.

"A-angel?" he small voice quavered as she peered around the corner.

Erik stared in disbelief, she had come back.

"Angel?" she asked, tiptoeing into the centre of the chapel, "a-are you there?"

"I am here child."

"Oh…" she gasped and then looked around, "are you, are you the Angel of Music?"

Erik couldn't help but let out an airy chuckle, such a kind name for a devil. He liked it though and replied, "Yes child, I am."

She began to tremble and let out a small squeak of excitement, "My papa sent you didn't he?"

Erik did not answer that, for some reason it did not seem right to tell her such a thing, "I came to you because you called me. You have a beautiful voice child."

"I do?"

"Yes…do you wish to learn how to use it?"

Her little head nodded so quickly that her curls spilled over her shoulders, "Yes!"

"Very well, then come back here tomorrow…and child?"

"Yes?"

"You are not to tell anyone, if you do I will not come anymore, do you understand?"

"Yes Angel."

Then she turned and scuttled out of the chapel. Erik let out a relieved sigh and turned to leave. That had gone surprisingly well. So, he would train her, even he thought it peculiar. A man masquerading as a ghost, masquerading as an angel to teach a little girl.


	17. XVII

XVII

Antoinette was relieved when no notes arrived the next day. She had been worried that her off handed comment would bring his wrath down on the opera house, it had happened before. Especially when he had been younger Erik would often take things the wrong way, though his creativity was not quite as developed at that point.

"Maman!" Meg called, hopping over on one foot, "Lulu stone my slipper."

"Meg!" Christine called, hurrying up behind her, waving the ballet slipper, "I got it back."

Antoinette smiled as the two girls ran back down the hall together. It was strange, but since the night before Christine seemed to have cheered up somewhat. That morning she had actually smiled and laughed when Meg tripped on her shoe.

"Madame Giry," Monsieur Lefevre called, "good morning."

"Good morning Monsieur, how are you this morning?"

"Very well, very well. My, little Miss Daae seems much happier this morning, how has she been?"

"Well, she misses her father but that is to be expected."

"Of course, I'm glad to see how well she is doing though. For a while it seemed like she would…well, another performance tonight hmm?"

"Oui, how exciting."

He gave a small wry laugh, "Indeed."

"Was there something you wanted Monsieur?"

"Nothing in particular. Well, I have paper work to do now, good day Madame Giry."

"Good day."

She shook her head as he left; the poor man was often under a lot of stress and would sometimes come to talk with her or Monsieur Reyer. It was difficult to run a theatre when there was a constant shadow looming in the back waiting to change everything.

"Madame!" a ballerina called, "rehearsal is about to start!"

"I will be right there."

* * *

Christine and Meg giggled as they watched the rehearsal take place. The stage was overly crowded with all the dancers and performers on stage. One of the chorus members ran into a prop tree and tripped another one. 

"Please!" Monsieur Reyer exclaimed, "We'll start again, from the top people."

"We'll be dancers one day," Meg whispered, "and then we'll be on stage, just like them."

"Running into things?" Christine asked as the stagehands attempted to fix the tree.

"No, we'll be better, we'll be the bestest dancers ever!" Meg giggled, and then she stood up and spun in a circle.

"No!" Monsieur Reyer exclaimed, "Madame Giry tell your dancers to take a break."

"As you wish Monsieur," she replied curtly.

"Very good, let me see. Ah yes, Brigitte perhaps we could rehearse the aria hmm?"

Meg sighed heavily as the soprano stepped forward; it was no fun to watch someone sing by him or herself.

"Aww, come on Christine lets go."

"Oh, alright," Christine sighed, "do you think I could be a singer when I'm all grown up Meg?"

"I dunno, if you wanna be I guess…tag!"

"Meg!" Christine squealed and started to chase her friend, "come back!"

* * *

Antoinette sighed heavily, the performance was to start in twenty minutes and Monsieur Reyer and Monsieur Lefevre were rushing about trying to make sure everything was in order. Of course it wouldn't be, there would be something amiss or out of place. Someone who would not be seated where they liked or would be seated beside someone they disliked. It was inevitable, just like the dancers would be late getting into costume or someone's costume would not be finished. 

"Madame I can't find my shoe," a dancer squeaked.

"There are extras, you know where they are. Or check the dressing room hmm?"

"But-"

"Go, I am busy. I must get the young ones in bed and cannot be hassled by this. Go and be quick, you still have to warm up no?"

The girl hurried off and Antoinette made her way towards the dressing room. As she passed the chapel Christine came out, humming softly and skipping.

"It is time for bed Christine," Antoinette scolded gently.

"Oh! Sorry Madame, I was just…going to bed now."

"Go on then," Antoinette said gently.

Christine went dashing off ahead of her and Antoinette followed. All the girls were in the dormitory when she got up to it and when they saw her they all climbed into bed and turned off the lights. Antoinette smiled and quickly returned to the stage where mayhem had no doubt started.

* * *

Erik couldn't help but leave the chapel in a good mood, something he wasn't entirely used to. She was young and lacked discipline and an attention span, but she was also eager and willing to please. He would have forgotten about the performance if it weren't opening night. _Norma _was to be performed and the Opera Ghost never missed opening night. 

Box five was, as usual, in perfect order, everything cleaned to perfection. Terrorizing people certainly did pay off at times. Even the performance wasn't horrible, though Brigitte did not have the perfect voice for the role she still performed it well and managed the aria without much difficulty.

The end of the performance proved to pose a difficult trek back to the lair. The hallways and corridors backstage were packed and even the small corridors to the side were occupied. They were favoured places for couples meeting after the show. It was surprising how many of the rich young men appreciated the dancers.

He had nearly made it to one of the entrances to the inner passages of the theatre when he had to duck into a shadowy corridor. The voices of Monsieur Lefevre and Antoinette drifted down the hall. He could feel anger bubble in his gut at the sound of her voice.

"A wonderful performance," Monsieur Lefevre beamed at Antoinette, "don't you agree?"

"Oui, definitely one of the better ones."

"The ghost should be pleased," he said under his breath.

"I hope so, but he is a strange man and you can never tell what he will think."

Erik frowned and very nearly snarled 'I'm not strange' at her. Monsieur Lefevre gave a nervous chuckle and hurried off to find the richest patrons and speak with them. Erik resisted the urge to grab Antoinette's arm, instead he settled to surge out of the corridor. He heard her give a small gasp of surprise and turned.

"Erik," she more mouthed it then said it. He glared at her and then swept off towards the entrance of the passageway, cloak billowing behind him.

"Madame Giry!" Monsieur Reyer called, "Mon dieu, are you alright?"

"Fine Monsieur Reyer," she replied, attempting to keep her voice steady, "what is it?"

"Just wanted to congratulate you on a fine performance."

"You as well Monsieur."

Erik flung the cloak to the floor and knocked over a candelabrum. It fell to the ground with a loud clatter and the candles snuffed out. He gave a low growl and tore a pile of papers from the desk, sending them floating through the air. He hated her and everything she had said.

"I am normal!" he raged, knocking over another one of the candelabras, "God damn it, why can't anyone see that?"

It took only a few minutes for him to have the entire place in shambles. Most of the candelabras on the floor along with hundreds of papers and meaningless trinkets. He sat on the organ bench panting and observing the mess, scores of music ruined by dripping wax and floating in the lake. With a resigned groan he began to clean up the mess, it always felt good to tear apart a room, it was putting it back together that took the real effort.

"Forget it," he growled, throwing a pile of music to the ground again.

He made his way to the bedroom and collapsed onto the bed, he was too tired too successfully clean up the mess he had made. He didn't even bother removing the jacket or cravat before falling asleep, once again it seemed to be too much effort.

* * *

Yay! Another chapter up, everyone rejoice. MadameGiryMiranda, thank you for the compliments I'm glad you like the way I portray the character and you are right, Mme Giry rocks! InuLvr7, to answer your question it will go up until the night of Hannibal and it isn't a prequel to "Time to Heal" that story's history comes from Kay's "Phantom" so it wouldn't work out. Lotte Rose 37, glad you liked the meeting and the values and morals I gave Erik...gah I just wrote a lot. Well read review and continue to enjoy! 


	18. XVIII

XVIII

"Angel?" Christine's little voice trembled with excitement as she waited for a reply.

"Yes child?" Erik replied, trying to hide the exhaustion in his own voice.

"You're there," she replied.

"Always," he replied and stifled a yawn. True she wouldn't be able to see it, but if she heard him yawn she might wonder, "Do you remember the scales I taught you yesterday?"

"Uh huh, of course."

"Then sing them for me."

She did so and Erik found that it took all of his effort to keep from falling asleep; she had nearly perfect pitch, something strange for someone so young. When she finished she looked around the chapel expectantly and when he said nothing right away she bobbed up and down nervously.

"Very good," Erik said, pulling himself out of his waking sleep, "why don't you…"

"Yes?" she asked eagerly.

"Sing a song that you know," he finished stupidly.

"Alright," she replied eagerly, "which one?"

"Do you remember the song you were singing the day I came to you? Sing that one."

She nodded her head again and began to sing in her perfect little voice. Well, it was not perfect, not yet, but he would make sure that it would become the perfect voice. With a sigh he leaned against the wall of the passage and listened, allowing the song to lull him into a half wakeful state.

"Was that good Angel?"

"Yes, it was fairly good. But when you sing try standing up a bit straighter…"

* * *

Meg scuttled through the opera house in search of Christine. Her friend had disappeared and it was almost time for supper. So she sifted her way through the cast backstage and looked everywhere she could imagine her friend to be, she wasn't in any of those places, not even the best hiding places for games. 

"Christine!" she called.

"Meg," Christine said and covered her friend's eyes with her hands, "here I am."

"Where were you, I looked all over the place."

"I was in the chapel…praying," she replied haltingly. If she told Meg about her Angel then he wouldn't come back and she couldn't do that.

"Well it's supper and maman will be angry if we're late."

"Uh oh," Christine gasped, "Hurry Meg!"

Giggling the two girls ran back through the theatre, nearly knocking over a dancer on their way. No one wanted to make Antoinette angry, she was very strict with her dancers and was even more so on the night of a performance.

* * *

"Madame," a dancer asked, "how much longer until the curtain call?" 

"Very soon, go and finish warming up…and retie your ribbons!" she called irritably, "ah, Monsieur Lefevre, a good turn out no?"

"Yes, quite a good turn out. I'm glad and no note."

"No…there wasn't was there?"

"Are you feeling alright Madame?"

"Fine Monsieur, please go on, the performance is to start very soon."

He nodded and strode off to find his own seat. Antoinette took the moment to lean against the nearest wall, sometimes it was worse not to hear from Erik than to have no idea what was forming in his mind. He had been angry, furious and she knew that. The question was what would he do with that fury?

"Madame!"

"I will be right there," she sighed, and made her way to where a small group of dancer were standing.

Over the next few days Antoinette avoided the dark corridors of the theatre and made a habit of staying close to at least one other resident of the theatre when possible. Something she had learned over the years was that Erik's temper was not something to be taken lightly. He had sprained her wrist once when they were younger because of a simple disagreement, she did not know what he would do now, though it seemed as if he were going to do nothing.

"Christine where are you going?" Antoinette asked. The child had taken to going off by herself in the evenings.

"To the chapel," she replied sheepishly, " to pray for papa."

"My dear, you need not go every night."

"But I want to," she whined, "please Madame."

"Fine, but not tomorrow. I want you to be in the dormitories with the other girls. Is that understood?"

She nodded her head, though Antoinette figured that she might not have. Little children didn't seem to understand the dangers of the theatre, even without a ghost. Props could fall, tools could be left on the floor to trip on, you could even get lost in the vast theatre, it had happened many times before.

"May I go now Madame?"

"Oui, but hurry back."

She nodded furiously and ran off in the direction of the chapel. Antoinette smiled, at least she seemed happy, she often hummed wherever she went and spoke with more of the girls in her class.

"Madame Giry?" a stagehand inquired.

"Yes, what is it?"

"Uh, Monsieur Lefevre would like to speak with you."

"Very well, thank you monsieur."

"Not at Madame, have a good night."

She knocked on the door and Monsieur Lefevre quickly called for her to come in. He was sitting at his desk mulling over a pile of papers, no doubt important to the maintenance of the theatre and barely looked up upon her entering.

"You sent for me Monsieur?"

"Ah yes, Madame Giry I did indeed," he replied, frowning at the paper in front of him, "please sit, sit, don't stand on my account."

"What is it you wanted Monsieur?" she queried as she sat in the chair opposite him.

"What is it I wanted?" he repeated, "I don't thin I even know at the moment…have you received any notes from our friend?"

"No, and if I had you would know."

"I see, I however have. Quite strange actually, I found it in my pocket after last night's performance. How do you think it got there?"

"I do not know Monsieur, the ghost must have put it there."

"I guess so, a little unnerving hmm, that he could slip a note into my pocket with me noticing or anyone seeing him?"

"Oui," she replied heavily, Erik had many talents and it seemed that pick pocketing was among them, or at least reverse pick pocketing, "what does it say Monsieur?"

"Nothing that I can make sense of," he grumbled, "he wrote the entire thing backwards."

"Backwards Monsieur?"

"Yes, backwards. I guess our ghost wanted to have a little fun with us."

"You have not been able to read it?"

"No!"

"May I see the note monsieur?"

Monsieur Lefevre shoved the small piece of paper across the desk. Antoinette raised her eyebrows, Erik had indeed written the note in reverse. With a small chuckle she stood up and found the small mirror that hung on the walls. Holding the note up so it was reflected there she read it.

"He gives his compliments on the performance of _Norma _and is pleased that you took his advice with the most recent performances. If you would like he will allow you to choose the next opera without interference…well he seems in a good mood."

"Sometimes that frightens me more," Monsieur Lefevre, sighed, "at least when he is cross we can expect small disasters. When he is in a good mood it always feels like the calm before the storm."

"Enjoy the calm," Antoinette advised, "for it may not last very long."

"You may go now Antoinette, thank you for your time and good night."

"Good night Monsieur."

She couldn't help but feel for the man, he always seemed so calm and confident in front of the theatre and at the galas. Behind the scenes he was under constant stress, pressured by the theatre's patrons and a second shadow that refused to leave him alone.

The peace lasted for nearly two more weeks, two weeks of notes that did nothing but praise the performances and offer small suggestions. No threats and only a brief reminder of his salary. Antoinette found it quite amazing that nothing had happened.

"One and two and three," Antoinette counted, "very good little ones, Meg stop that. Lulu, please pay attention." She hit her cane on the ground the grab their attention and each of the girls snapped their heads around to look at her.

"Madame, can we stop now?" Lulu asked once they had finished the exercise, "I'm tired."

"We are finished for the day, but I expect you all to do the stretches I have taught you, otherwise you will hurt yourselves."

"Yes Madame," came the chorus of answers.

"Very good."

She made her way through the theatre with the intention to go out for the afternoon. She had given the older dancers the day off after all the rehearsals and performances, a time for them to shop in the city among other things.

"Madame," the voice reached her ears as little more then a whisper, but that whisper was enough to make her blood run cold.

She looked around to find the source of the voice; an empty hall was the only source she could think it to come from. Very carefully she made her way towards it.

"Not there," it taunted from over her shoulder, "try again Madame."

She raised her eyes and searched once again for the voice, but it was impossible to tell its origins. Erik was very talented when it came to throwing his voice.

"Giving up Madame?" the voice sneered, "come now…surely you can find me."

"Erik!" she hissed once she was sure no one else was around, "enough of this foolish game."

"You ruin all the fun Madame."

She could detect the frown in his voice, "What is it you want Phantom?"

"The Phantom wants you to deliver this…" a note fluttered to the ground at her feet, "enjoy your day, Madame."

Antoinette bent over and picked up the envelope. She could not help but think that their had been an edge of hurt in his voice when he had said phantom. With a sigh she opened the note.

"Madame Giry!" Monsieur Lefevre exclaimed when she entered his office, "what is it?"

"A note," she replied calmly, "the Ghost wishes for you to cancel the performance of _Le Barbier de Séville_."

"What? But we have already begun…why?"

"He does not say, just that it _will _be cancelled and instead the theatre will do a production of _The Magic Flute._"

"_The Magic Flute_?" he asked, rubbing his temples, "very well…go and find Monsieur Reyer, tell him about the change and…well did he send the scores?"

"He says that you will find the music in Box Five."

"Very well then, go get the music and tell Monsieur Reyer…oh he'll have a fit."

Antoinette nodded and made her way to Box Five, sure enough the music, bound in a leather folder, was sitting on the seat. She picked it up and made her way back through the theatre to find Monsieur Reyer. The poor man nearly had a fit when she told him the news.


	19. XIX

XIX

"Angel?" Christine asked.

"Yes child?"

"Did you know that the theatre is having a big party tonight?"

"I did know that child."

"Oh, well Madame is going and she gets to wear a fancy dress and a mask," she said, "its called a masquerade and everyone wears masks and costumes."

"I know child."

"Meg and I wanted to go but Madame said that we couldn't, but maybe when we're older."

"I see…is that all child?"

"Yes Angel, I have to go now or Madame will scold me for being late for supper again. Good bye Angel."

"Good bye child."

Erik waited until the pitter-patter of her feet had faded completely before leaving. The Bal Masque was once again upon them, which meant another year had passed. He considered going for a moment but decided against it. Going meant socializing and since he did not speak with Madame anymore he would have no one to talk to. Besides, it would involve climbing all those stairs again. Twice a day was quite enough.

"Masquerade, paper faces on parade, masquerade. Hide your face so the world will never find you…" he sang softly and then began to hum.

Christine's voice was improving and she had begun to take comfort in talking with him. Erik listened, though he didn't entirely hear what she was saying. The concerns of a young child hardly bothered him, besides if she asked a question a yes or no would generally suffice.

Looking around the lair he sighed heavily, he had been composing for the greater part of the week, composing music that no one would ever hear. He could go up to the masquerade and cause some trouble; it would at least be amusing. But then again it would take some effort and he had no plans to corrupt that night's events.

"It would seem I am stuck down here," he sighed, sitting down in front of the organ, "for yet another night."

By the next morning Erik was thoroughly exhausted and had no will to travel to the surface for Christine's lessons. With a small amount of effort he took two novels and began to ascent to the chapel. She wouldn't arrive until later, but if he waited he was bound to either fall asleep or forget.

"Angel are you there?"

Erik started awake at the sound of her voice and barely suppressed a groan, "I am here child. Start your warm-ups, just like I taught you."

Christine ran through her scales and a few simple songs, mostly lullaby, that Erik had taught her. Then it was his turn to sing, a small part of an operatic aria that she was to repeat. He only used the simplest ones now, but would slowly add more verses and songs.

"Don't reach for the notes," he scolded gently, "keep your chin level…very good child."

"Was I good?" she asked eagerly.

"Very good," he replied, "do your scales again and then you may go."

"Alright Angel."

* * *

Christine left the chapel and skipped back to the dormitory where Meg and the other dancers were. Antoinette was in the room as well and frowned when Christine entered. 

"Where have you been?"

"The chapel Madame," she said apologetically, "I'm sorry."

"That is fine."

Christine hurried over to her bed and sat down on it, Meg quickly joined her, "Maman was scolding Alexis," she whispered, "because she tripped Rosa and hurt her foot."

"Oh…that's mean."

"Uh-huh, so now she's in trouble and won't be able to dance for a whole week 'cause of it."

"Poor Rosa," Christine said, "is she hurt bad?"

"Not really, but she says it hurts and now she can't dance either and she says she hates Alexis."

After supper they all changed into their nightgowns and climbed into bed. They whispered and giggled until Antoinette came and chided them for it, then they turned out the lights and went to sleep.

That night Christine dreamt of her Angel of Music singing to her. When she woke up she could have sworn it was real for the remnants of the melody seemed to linger in the air. With a small yawn she pulled the covers back up to her chin and went back to sleep, allowing the song to fill her dreams.

* * *

**InuLvr7, glad you like my choice of operas and its not sad, we all have our hobbies and yes Erik is training Christine and it is quite exciting. Lotte Rose 37, I always love the feedback you give me, I'm glad that I am doing a good job with their feeling. As for conversations with Christine, there are more details in a chapter or two...I can't remember, but they are coming. Uh other then that I haven't been getting many reviews on these last chapters. If you are out there reading, start reviewing! Love you all.**


	20. XX

XX

"Hurry up Christine," Meg whined, "don't be such a fraidy cat."

"But Meg," Christine objected, "its dangerous, Madame has told us not to come down here."

"Oh, you're such a boring fart," Meg said, stomping her foot, "maman will never know."

"But Meg, what about the ghost?"

"That's who we're looking for," Meg informed her, "he lives down here."

Christine frowned, "How would you know that Meg? No one knows where the ghost lives."

"Well no one knows is a lie. He must live down here, where else would a ghost live?"

"I don't know…does a ghost even have to live anywhere. I don't think ghosts have to eat or sleep or anything."

The two girls considered this for a moment, after all if the man haunting the theatre truly was a ghost, then he wouldn't need a place to live.

"Well…he lives down here," Meg finished, "and we're going to find him."

They navigated their way down through the cellars until they reached the third one. The third cellar was where all the old props were stored after their use, just in case there was ever need for a fake tree again.

"How do you know the ghost is a he?" Christine asked, tripping over a piece of wood.

"Oh, because he's spoken before," Meg informed her, "once he got really angry and yelled at the manager during a performance and it made the chandelier shake."

"Really?"

"Yup, then everyone left because they were frightened."

Christine gasped softly at the notion, Monsieur Lefevre always complained when only a few people wanted to refund their seat. If an entire auditorium of people demanded it he would have a fit.

They continued there way through the cellar, not noticing when a shadow quickly slipped behind a large set piece. The girls were too busy giggling and gossiping; after all they were going to be starting en Pointe in three days. That meant that they would soon be able to dance on stage in front of everyone.

"Won't it be fun?" Meg asked, eyes shining with excitement.

"I guess so, but won't it be frightening. I mean all those people watching us…what if we do something like trip?"

"Then we'll be just like Lulu," Meg giggled, "we won't be on stage for a while still, but at least we get to dance en point. Isn't it exciting?"

"I don't think he's here," Christine said.

"No, neither do I…should we keep going to the fourth cellar?"

"I think supper is soon and Madame will murder us if we are late and she finds out where we were."

"Fine…let's look there tomorrow and then the fifth cellar as well."

"Alright."

"Did you know that there is a lake under the stage?"

"Of course! Everyone knows that Meg."

Giggling and chattering the girls navigated their way back up through the cellars. By the time they reached the first one they decided that there were far too many stairs and that they were quite late for supper. This of course led to the concocting of an excuse for their tardiness.

* * *

Erik heard their voices before he saw them and was barely able to dart behind an old scene piece before they came upon him. If they had been careless stagehands he would have given them quite a fight, however it was Christine and little Meg Giry who were stalking the bowels of the theatre. 

Upon listening he learned that they were in fact looking for him. It seemed that Meg had convinced Christine to aid her in the search for the opera ghost. They continued to search as they talked, Meg coming within inches of his hiding place. He pushed himself further into the shadows and silently willed her to turn away, she did and he let out a held breath.

"I don't think he's here," Christine said.

This send a small wash o relief over him, being found by two ten year old girls would certainly be an interesting way for the Opera Ghost to be found. The two girls clattered off and Erik allowed a heavy sigh to be released from his lungs.

He waited several more minutes before leaving his hiding place, just to be safe. However it seemed that the girls had gone to supper, though by the time they reached the second cellar they would already be very late and most likely very sick of all the stairs.

"Too many stairs," he said out loud, "that is for certain."

Then he turned and made his way back down through the cellars. After all Christine had already had her lesson and he had already sent the manager a note regarding his salary and box. It had been used in the last performance and if it happened again the next person would receive more than a fright.

* * *

"Christine are you ready?" Meg hissed. 

"Ready?

"To go into the cellars again, hurry up."

"I can't Meg I have to…" she chewed on her lower lip nervously, "I have to go do something."

"Fine pouted."

"It won't take long Meg, I'll be right back I promise!" she called as she hurried towards the chapel.

"You are late Christine," the voice scolded.

"Practice ran long, I'm sorry Angel…should I do my scales?"

"Of course, warm up your voice and then we will start."

Christine ran through her scales and a few simple songs before waiting for her Angel's instruction.

"Do you remember verse the aria I had you sing yesterday?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Good, sing it again."

Christine did as she was told, making sure to keep in mind all of her Angel's advice and instruction. It seemed that no matter how well she did he could always criticize something. Today was no different.

"Your breathing needs improvement," he informed her lazily when she yawned, "don't you remember what I taught you?"

"I'm sorry Angel, I'll try harder."

"You're distracted today," he replied, "you may go now. After all there is no point in practising if your mind is elsewhere. Be gone child."

Christine nodded her head and left the chapel. She had been thinking about exploring with Meg instead of singing and he could tell by the way she performed. She could feel tears prick at the corners of her eyes and wiped them away before they could fall. The Angel could be so stern at times, especially if she wasn't paying attention.

"Are you ready Christine?" Meg asked eagerly.

"I guess so," she replied glumly, "the fourth and fifth right?"

"Uh-huh, hurry or we won't have time."

Meg then grabbed Christine's hand and half dragged her to the entrance of the first cellar. Several hundred steps later they would be in the fourth cellar, only one above where the ghost actually dwelled.

"Nothing here," Meg announced after several minutes of searching, "only one more to go!"

The fifth cellar proved to be far different from the others. It was where the labyrinth began. Meg and Christine crouched in front of the water and frowned slightly. There was a ring where a boat might be tied, but no boat, and no sign of any ghosts.

"Maybe he doesn't live under the theatre," Christine suggested, "maybe he lives in it. There are seventeen floors you know?"

"Maybe," Meg said, disappointment evident in her voice, "or maybe he lives in the walls!"

"The walls?"

"Uh-huh, ghosts can live in walls you know? They can even walk right through them. Maybe that's why no one ever sees him, because he can walk through walls."

"But people have seen him," Christine pointed out.

"Yeah, but then he disappears, vanishes into thin air. Maybe he goes into the walls."

Christine considered it for a minute before nodding her head in agreement. It did after all make sense. Very few people had ever seen the ghost, and many of them no longer lived in the theatre.

"We should go," she murmured, "there's a lot of stairs to climb and I think we'll be late again."

"Maman will have our heads!"

Erik had nearly sprinted the entire way to the gondola, little Meg and Christine were really going to become a nuisance if they continued to search for him, especially at times when the boat was actually across the lake. Leaning heavily against the pole he rested, then again if they had found the boat it wouldn't really matter. He doubted that anyone would believe them when it would be gone once they returned.

* * *

**Another chapter for your reading pleasure, hope you enjoyed it. Lotte Rose 37 yes boredom and Erik are a dangerous combination, when I'm bored I write when Erik is bored well...watches Erik design torture chamber things like that happen. Thank you for complimenting the way I get across the operas rhythm and I have plans...oh yes, many plans... InuLvr7, yeah I know it was short and that kind of sucked, but never fear I don't think I'll have any chapters that short again. So yeah, read and review and if you are reading and I haven't heard from you I will find you.**


	21. Part Three: Guardian Angel

Part Three: Guardian Angel

XXI

The scrape of Antoinette's cane across the stage floor and the music filled the auditorium as rehearsal took place. It was the fifth day of rehearsals for the new production of _Les Huguenots_. Rehearsals would continue for two more weeks before the performance.

"One two, three, keep count in your head!" Antoinette called.

The music ended and the dancers made there way off stage. Christine and Meg both sat down to watch until they had to go on again. It was to be there first performance.

"I'm so tired," Meg panted.

"I know," Christine moaned, "this is harder then it looks."

"Girls," Antoinette called.

Groaning they got back up and got into their lines. Two more weeks of this seemed like pure torture after only hour-long lessons. Still, it would be worth it in the end, at least that was they kept telling each other.

"Very good," Antoinette said at last, "stretch and then you may go rest."

She smiled as they all breathed thank yous and hurried off. This would be the first performance for many of the girls and the rehearsals were taking their toll. Many had sore muscles and blisters from the daily event. Still, they persevered. Those who could not handle it would drop out and leave the ballet. It was one of the ways that she chose the dancers that would continue their careers.

"They're doing very well," Monsieur Reyer commented.

"Merci Monsieur, I am quite proud."

"Especially your daughter and young Miss Daae. Those two have talent."

"They practise very hard Monsieur and enjoy dancing. They will go far in the theatre."

"Promising talent," Monsieur Reyer said, "that is something we need at the moment. Have you heard that the new soprano arrives tomorrow?"

"Ah yes, Carlotta Giudicelli, correct?"

"Yes, she is supposedly quite talented."

"We can only hope Monsieur Reyer, otherwise we may be in for some hard times."

"Yes well…I believe that Piangi will be pleased. She is Italian, or so I have been told."

"Two Italian lead singers?" Antoinette asked.

"Hmm, I must be going, I'm afraid that the third clarinet has been having some trouble."

Antoinette nodded as he strode off to find the man in question. A new lead singer and a new clarinet, she could only hope that this would not cause too much disruption to the performance.

* * *

Erik fiddled with the rope in his hand, wrapping it around itself and slipping the end through the small loop, pulling it tight. With a flick of his wrist he caught a candelabra in the noose and pulled it tight, causing the entire thing to clatter to the floor. With a sigh he dropped the rope and wandered over to the gondola. 

Christine was once again late for the lesson, but he did not say anything. The poor girl was always exhausted after rehearsals; it didn't seem fair to scold her for doing her job. Besides, she still tried her best when she came and had improved considerably over the years. It was hard to believe now that it had been four years since he had started teaching her.

"I'm sorry I'm late," she panted.

"Do not apologise to me Christine, I know that you are very busy."

"I'm already warmed up," she said eagerly, "Meg and I were singing with the chorus."

"Were you now?"

"Just scales," she said nervously, "nothing more then that."

"Very well then. We will start with…" he trailed off thoughtfully, "why don't you choose today Christine?"

"Oh, umm, alright."

When the lesson was over Erik could see that the poor girl was completely exhausted. It would be unfair to her to have her come every night, besides she had come far enough that he felt he did not have to remind her to practice everyday.

"From now on we will have lessons twice a week, Mondays and Fridays."

"Oh, alright…why?"

"Because I said so my child. Remember though, do your scales everyday, you do not need me for that."

"Of course Angel…and thank you."

"Good night child."

* * *

Christine left the chapel and went to the dormitory, collapsing on the bed. Meg smiled at her from her own bed, "Tired?" 

"Just a little," Christine smiled, "you?"

"Exhausted…two more weeks!"

"Then we get to rest?"

"Only if we do badly and don't get into the other performances…oh, I can't wait!"

She gave a small squeal of excitement and flopped back on her bed. Meg had been nearly bubbling since they had been put in the line and the hard work didn't seem to deter her.

"Neither can I," Christine agreed, "but right now, I can't wait to sleep."

The next day rehearsals were interrupted by the entrance of the new prima donna. The woman came in with a small entourage, and dressed extravagantly in furs. She was talking rapidly to Monsieur Lefevre, who looked quite lost.

"Pardon us," Monsieur Lefevre said, "but I would like to introduce our new prima donna, La Carlotta."

"Thank you, thank you," she said as a few people on stage applauded.

"Miss," Monsieur Lefevre continued, "Our conductor, Monsieur Reyer, Madame Giry, our ballet mistress and our lead tenor, Piangi."

"Yes, yes, a pleasure," she replied haughtily.

"Well, I should leave you to your rehearsal," Monsieur Lefevre said, glancing at Antoinette, "Miss, if you'll follow me please."

Just as they turned to leave a note fluttered onto the stage. Monsieur Lefevre visibly winced as he picked it up and handed it to Antoinette, he never read the things himself.

"The Opera Ghost welcomes our new soprano to the opera house and requests that she sing for him. He says he is listening and that she is to do so immediately."

"Who is this, this ghost?" she asked, "I do nota sing for ghosts. Tell your ghost that!"

"Mademoiselle, I think it would be best if you did," Monsieur Lefevre said, then added, "it would show your immense talent to everyone here at the theatre."

"You are just saying that so your ghost cana hear me sing…well fine, I will sing for him. La la la la la la la!" she shouted, "there I sing for you ghost, what do you think hmm? La la la la la la la!"

"I think that you could stand to learn a little respect," Erik hissed to himself and turned away from the scene.

"There, is your ghost happy?"

"Why don't I show you to your dressing room?" Monsieur Lefevre asked nervously, "This way please."

* * *

The day of the performance came faster then any of the young dancers imagined. The final rehearsal was taking place even as sets were being finished. For Christine the time had passed in a whirl of rehearsals, costume fittings and lessons from her Angel. 

"Are you nervous?" Simonette asked, "Because I am."

"A little," Christine admitted, "but not overly much."

"I'm nervous," Meg said, "and excited…oh our first performance. How wonderful!"

"Wonderful indeed," Antoinette agreed, "now why don't you get in your lines hmm?"

"Yes Madame.

"Yes maman."

The rehearsal finished with a fight between Monsieur Reyer and Monsieur Lefevre and Christine hurried to the chapel to visit her Angel. First she lit the candle for her father and said a quick prayer.

"Angel?" 

"Yes?"

"Oh good, I thought that you might not be here."

"Why would you think that Christine?"

"I don't know…it's my first performance tonight, I'm terribly nervous. Everyone will be watching, what if I make a mistake?"

"You won't," he replied simply, "you are very talented, and I will be there to watch over you. Don't be nervous child."

His words filled her with a strange warmth and confidence, "Thank you Angel…I have to go. Madame will be looking for me."

"I will be watching tonight," he repeated.

"Good bye Angel."

"Good bye Christine."

Erik watched the performance from Box Five with an increased interest in the ballet. Christine and Meg Giry proved to be quite impressive dancers. He made a mental note to inform the manager. Unfortunately La Carlotta, though quite the soprano, had been rather poorly trained. He found that actually understanding the opera was quite challenging, yet another thing to inform the managers of. Still, she did have some talent and hopefully would improve as she went on.


	22. XXII

XXII

Erik slipped through the passage; he could already hear Christine's voice drifting through the air. She was early then, maybe rehearsals had been cut short due to the performance the night before. Without a sound he made his way to the small alcove in the wall of the chapel and silently moved the stone, giving him a full view of the chapel bellow.

Christine sat cross-legged on the floor of the chapel and waited. She was early for her lesson and had already prayed for her father. Now there was nothing to do but wait, as she did so she sang her scales and the beginning of an aria her Angel had taught her. 

"Very good my dear," Erik praised as he entered.

"Angel," she smiled, "you're here."

"Of course I am here."

"Were you watching last night? Did you see me dance Angel, did you?"

"Of course I did, didn't I tell you that I would?"

"Yes, I didn't mean to doubt you but…I wasn't nervous. I danced for you."

"Did you my dear?" Erik asked, amazed by what she had said, "I am very touched, and you danced beautifully."

"Did you really think so Angel?"

"Yes my dear, you will be in many more operas, believe me."

"That would be wonderful! How do you know Angel?"

"Because my dear, you have talent and it will not be wasted."

"Madame said that they are choosing those to dance in the next opera, I hope Meg and I are chosen. Wouldn't that be wonderful Angel? It was so amazing to be on the stage, with everyone watching, I loved it…though I think I would be frightened if I were alone."

"It would be wonderful," he agreed, "would you like to start the lesson now Christine?"

"Oh…alright."

"Today though, I will sing for you," Erik informed her, "since you performed so wonderfully last night, would you like that?"

Christine nearly bubbled with excitement. She loved it when her Angel sang for her; his voice was so beautiful, "Yes, I'd like that very much Angel."

"Very well Christine, I will sing for you."

* * *

Antoinette knocked on the office door and Monsieur Lefevre called for her to enter. When he saw her his face dropped slightly and Antoinette knew that the expected her to have a new note. That morning the Opera Ghost had informed them of his thoughts on the performance and the new diva; there had been very few compliments. 

"Do not fear Monsieur Lefevre, I am just here to inform you of my choice for the ballets."

"Oh, thank you Madame Giry, I was afraid that perhaps our friend had forgotten something in his first note."

"Not at all, after all I thought he made his views quite clear."

"Yes…he is good at that," he said, "well who have you chosen."

"Here," she replied, handing him the paper.

"I hope the ghost approves," he grumbled, "well it looks good to me. Thank you Madame Giry."

"Have a good day Monsieur Lefevre, will you be at the performance tonight?"

"I have not decided yet. Good day Madame Giry."

Antoinette left the office to inform the dancers of her decisions. Tomorrow Erik would no doubt have some changes for her to make, he always did, and the poor girls that were replaced would cry or get angry. Once someone even left the theatre because of it, but that was the way of the opera house. Everyone complied with the demands of an unseen madman.

"Madame!" Christine called.

"Oh, yes Christine, what is it?"

"Have you decided who is in the ballet yet?" she asked eagerly.

"I was just going to the dormitory to announce that."

"Oh, are Meg and I going to be in the ballet Madame?"

"You will have to wait and see, come with me dear."

Antoinette entered the dormitory and the girls all quieted down and sat on there beds. Christine quickly sat down beside Meg on her bed and the two exchanged a quick whisper and anxious looks. They were very eager to be in the next performance.

"I have decided on the dancers in the next performance," Antoinette began, "and I hope that no one will be disappointed in the selections."

She announced the names of the dancers and waited for the excitement and congratulations to subside. Meg and Christine had nearly squealed with delight when their names had been announced.

"You will all be expected to be at rehearsal tomorrow morning. You will hear the music and then we will begin practises. Lights out is in two hours."

"Oh Meg we're in!" Christine bubbled, "Can you believe it?"

"I know!" Meg said and hugged her friend tightly.

"Of course you two are in," Adelle said angrily, brushing her black bangs away from her face.

"What do you mean?" Christine asked.

"Isn't it obvious? You're Madame's daughter," she said, pocking Meg, "and you, Christine, are practically her daughter also. She was your dear father's lover after all."

"That's a lie!" Meg argued, "We got in because we're good dancers, that's all."

"Yeah, I'm sure," Adelle snapped, "you're relations have nothing to do with it."

"You're in the ballet to," Christine said, "so why are you so angry?"

"I had to work hard to get in, unlike you two."

"Shut up!" Meg shouted, jumping off the bed, "we got in because we have talent, unlike some people!"

With that the little blonde stomped out of the room, Christine followed her. She could feel tears burning her eyes and didn't want to cry in front of the other girls. Her and Meg had worked just as hard if not harder to get into the ballet.

"Christine don't cry," Meg, said when she saw her friend.

"I'm not," she whimpered.

"Don't listen to her Christine, it isn't true. We got in because we're good, not because of maman.

"I know that," Christine said, wiping her eyes, "I think I'm just tired."

"I know, why don't we go to the kitchen?" Meg suggested, "we could get a small snack and then it would be lights out when we got back and we wouldn't have to listen to that stupid Adelle."

"That's a good idea."

* * *

Erik was surprised when Christine stomped into the chapel and threw her Pointe shoes at the wall. She was normally a very gentle girl and he had never seen her angry before. He knew that the rehearsals had not been going well with the new prima donna, but he hadn't imagined them going so badly. 

"Is something wrong Christine?" he asked.

"No!" she replied quickly, "well…"

"You can tell me Christine."

"Its Adelle," Christine blurted out, "she's being so mean to me and Meg. She says we aren't good dancers and has been making fun of us. She tripped Meg in the hall today and she scraped her knee!"

"Really?"

"Yes…she says that we only got into the ballet because Madame is Meg's maman and I'm her friend."

"Do not worry my little angel," he soothed, "you know better than that, don't you?"

"Well…yes I guess so."

"Then there is nothing to worry about. Ignore Adelle, if you would like we can cancel lessons for today."

"No, I want to sing Angel."

"Very well then."

* * *

Erik decided to attend rehearsals the next day and found himself watching from backstage. There were many hidden alcoves and halls so he had very little fear of being seen. It was through watching that he learned why rehearsals had been going so slowly, La Carlotta was constantly complaining about one thing or another. 

"Girls!" Antoinette shouted, "listen to the music."

Erik chuckled as the dancers tried to stay in step. It was increasingly difficult with Carlotta complaining loudly off stage. When they finally gave up and sat off to the side Erik saw what Christine had been telling him about.

"Ouch!" Meg exclaimed, as the black haired girl appeared to have tripped on her foot.

"Oh, I didn't see you there."

"You could at least apologize," Christine said softly.

As Adelle turned on her Erik swept away from his hiding space and made his way to Box Five, from there he had a perfect view of the stage. The Opera Ghost had not made an appearance in a very long time, perhaps it was time again. After all, even if it had not been his little angel, the way the older girl treated them annoyed him.

By the time he made it to the box the dancers were on stage again. The line with Adelle was going off just as the line with Christine and Meg came on. As they did so Adelle stretched her leg out and tripped Christine.

"Stop!"

The entire stage froze as his voice echoed through the auditorium. Several of the dancers paled and he could see Antoinette searching for the source of his voice.

"It the Phantom of the Opera," Meg gasped.

"Oh shut your mouth you little brat," Adelle snapped.

"Perhaps you should shut you mouth," Erik retorted sharply, this caused the dancers to all step away from her, "I have been watching this pandemonium that you call a rehearsal and I am disgusted!"

"Please sir I-"

"Silence!"

"Christine are you alright?" Meg asked, helping her friend stand, "are you hurt?"

"I'm fine Meg," she said, gingerly putting weight on her foot, "it only hurts a bit."

"You," Meg snapped glaring at Adelle.

"It was an accident," Adelle snarked.

"If any more of these 'accidents' occur to either Meg Giry or Christine Daae you, my dear, can be certain that you will have an accident of your own," Erik threatened, "watch your step mademoiselle, you have made an enemy I am sure you do not want."

His last words echoed through the theatre and then it fell quiet. After a moment a small murmur erupted on the stage. Adelle had gone terribly pale and both Christine and Meg were slightly red in the face.

"Come my dears," Antoinette said hurriedly, "Meg help Christine to the dormitory and I will get some ice for her ankle. Can you walk on it Christine?"

"Yes Madame, I don't think its hurt."

"We will make certain first," she said, "the rest of you, rehearsal is over for the day. Go to the practise room and I will meet you there. We will go over the dances again."

"Go, go, all of you!" Monsieur Reyer said nervously, "Rehearsals will resume again tomorrow."

Erik smiled as he exited the box; the ability to throw one's voice was remarkably helpful at times. He had certainly frightened the young ballerina, however she had more cause to be afraid then she knew. If any harm had come to Christine he would make sure that the girl would never dance in the theatre, or any theatre, again.


	23. XXIII

XXIII

Christine ran through the halls with Meg and skidded to a halt just before the stage. Antoinette fixed them both with stern looks as they began to warm-up just like everyone else. Thankfully Christine had not injured her ankle badly, it had only been sore for a day.

"You two are late," Antoinette, scolded.

"I'm sorry maman, Christine was helping me find my shoe."

"Well next time don't lost it," Antoinette scolded, "we have enough trouble without late dancers."

The two girls flinched slightly at the scolding. Everyone had been on edge since the Opera Ghost's visit. Apparently he only ever spoke when something had truly angered him and that frightened everyone. Meg and Christine exchanged worried looks; it felt as if they were the source of all the trouble.

"Finish your stretching and come here," Antoinette called, "we must begin."

"Madame Giry?" Monsieur Reyer asked.

"Oui?"

"I wonder…never mind. We should begin."

Antoinette sighed. For the past week everyone had been asking questions only to receive no answers. One angry rant and Erik had disappeared as if he never even existed. Not one note or word, no changes to the cast, to the surprise of everyone, and no threats. Silence, that was all they had to work with. Silence and the hope that it was due to contentment and not the planning of something terrible.

The silence stretched for another week, then a note arrived. Antoinette nearly laughed when she read it.

"He would like to say that the progress on the opera is pleasing and that his salary is due soon…there is nothing here that suggests anger Monsieur Lefevre."

"Well Madame, it seems that we have dodged a bullet of sorts. Thank heavens, this means that there will be no appearances on opening night I trust?"

"It appears that way Monsieur, it appears that way."

"Well then, only four days to go everyone. Let us hope we stay on his good side for those days."

* * *

Christine entered the chapel after rehearsal and lit the candle for her father. Despite her frequent visits she found very little time to do so anymore. Between rehearsals, spending time with Meg and lessons there was barely time to eat let alone pray. She was glad then that her Angel waited until she unfolded her hands to greet her. 

"Praying Christine?"

"Yes, for my father…I miss him you know? I still dream that he is alive sometimes and then I wake up and he isn't there."

"I'm sorry Christine."

"It's been so long…"she murmured, "but I can still remember his face and hear him playing the violin. Madame took me to visit his grave yesterday…"

"That must have been difficult for you," Erik replied quietly.

"I used to wonder why he left me and I was angry at him because…because he hadn't sent you to me…but you're here now, he kept his promise and I'll keep mine."

"What was your promise Christine?"

'That I would make him proud, he always made me promise that."

"Let us begin with your scales."

Christine nodded and began to run through her scales. The lesson that day was short and she was glad for it. She was tired and the performance would be upon them soon, besides she wanted to spend time with Meg, it had been a long time since they had searched the halls for the infamous ghost, and that night they planned to do so again.

"Christine focus!" Antoinette snapped, "The performance is tomorrow."

"Sorry Madame," she replied.

Christine had been having trouble focussing for the past two days. Her Angel had been teaching her some difficult vocals and his voice seemed to linger in her mind. She refocused on the task at hand and fell back into step with the others.

"Christine!" Antoinette scolded again.

Christine winced and tried to catch up again, thankfully the dance was almost over, "I'm sorry."

"Very good, go and stretch, Christine could you come here?"

Christine bit her lip and chewed it nervously, "Yes Madame?"

"Where is your head today child?" she asked, "the performance is tomorrow and you are falling out of step. Is something the matter?"

"No Madame, I'm sorry I guess I was just…thinking of something else."

"Well do not, you have talent Christine and you have not had this problem before. Try to focus hmm?"

"I will Madame, and I'm sorry."

"Very well, do better tomorrow…you may go now my dear."

"Focus!" her Angel's voice sounded angry and she flinched, "where is your mind today child?"

"I'm sorry, I was thinking of the ballet."

"Oh? Well focus on this now, I am trying to teach you something!"

"Don't be angry," she whimpered, "I'm very sorry."

"Try again, from the top…Qui la voce sua soave mi chiamava…" her Angel's voice sounded a bit rough today.

"Qui giurava esser fedele, qui il giurava…"

"Good continue."

"Alright…E poi crudele, mi fuggì! Ah, mai più qui assorti insieme nella gioia dei sospir. Ah, rendetemi la speme, o lasciate, lasciatemi morir-"

"Very good, that is enough for today. You may go."

"I didn't finish the song though," she murmured guiltily.

"I know," he groaned, "you are improving, we will continue with this next lesson…and remember Christine, focus on one thing at a time, otherwise you will never improve."

As she left Erik pressed and hand to his forehead and slid down the cold stonewall. He felt terrible, his head hurt and his throat was on fire. He gave a small cough before climbing back to his feet and making his way back to the lair where he fell onto the bed. 

Loosening his collar he sighed heavily. Tomorrow was opening night and he meant to attend, after all Christine was to perform. Still he felt terrible and vaguely wondered if he had a fever, he felt warm. He groaned softly and closed his eyes, hopefully it would pass.

* * *

**Hmmm, not a lot of feedback for the last chapter, I do hope that I get more for this one. Umm, let me think, first thanks to all who gave the last chapter a review, love all my readers! Sorry I haven't updated sooner, its written out until chapter twenty-five or six I think but I haven't had time to actually come on line because of school, alas, in class essays and chemistry to study for! So please review if you have read and I hope to update later tonight or tomorrow morning.**


	24. XXIV

XXIV

Erik staggered up to watch rehearsals. He felt worse than ever. His head and throat throbbed and he was grateful to collapse in the flies where he would remain unseen. He turned his head and watched the performers move across the stage and decided that he would skip the performance that evening.

As the rehearsal ended he climbed to his feet. He had had enough, the music only caused his head to hurt more and it had taken all his effort not to cough and give away his position. Despite his best efforts as he walked a cough racked his body and he had to kneel to prevent losing his balance. Several of the ballet rats screamed at the sudden sound and he cursed silently as he quickly climbed down from his vantage point.

* * *

"Hush, hush. Quiet down!" Antoinette ordered. 

"It was him," Jacqueline exclaimed, "It was the Phantom of the Opera!"

"Nuh-uh," Meg said knowingly, "ghosts don't get sick."

"Girls," Antoinette repeated, "please settle down, it was most likely one of the stagehands. Go to the practise room and stretch, then you may return to the dormitory and rest until the performance."

Antoinette could not help but smiled when the all scampered away in a tight group. Phantom of the Opera, they had come up with that name by themselves and often used it instead of Opera Ghost. She had to admit, it had a certain ring to it.

"Excuse me Monsieur," Antoinette said as she pushed past Monsieur Lefevre, "I must go speak with someone."

"Oh, well all right," He murmured.

It wasn't hard to find Erik; he was down one of the deserted hallways, nearly doubled over. Antoinette clucked her tongue when she saw him, the infamous Opera Ghost nearly on his knees because of a cough. It brought back painful memories.

"Oh dear," she murmured as he slid to the floor.

"Is that all you have to say Madame?" he asked.

She sighed and pressed her hand against his forehead, "You have a fever," she said.

"Yes, yes and a headache and a cough, thank you Madame you are quite observant."

She frowned slightly but took no offence to his abrasive tone. When he had been younger he had cracked a rib and responded in nearly the same manner, like a wounded animal, snapping at her helping hand.

"You certainly frightened my girls."

"I think I'll go home now," Erik growled.

Antoinette watched as he climbed to his feet, swayed slightly and slid back down to the floor, "And how do you intend to do that?"

"The same way I got up here," he groaned, pressing a hand to his forehead.

"And how was that?"

"Carefully," he began to cough again and added, "very carefully."

"You cannot return to your lair, you're very sick Erik. Come, I will help you to my room, you can stay there."

"Your room Madame?" he asked wryly, "how kind of you."

Antoinette rolled her eyes and helped him to his feet. At least he had not lost his sense of humour. It took some time to get to her room, mostly because they had to avoid the many people on their way. When they finally arrived Antoinette pushed Erik into the chair. She pressed a damp cloth to his forehead and moved about the room. Erik watched her pour an amber coloured liquid into a glass. She pressed it into his hands and told him to drink it. Erik obeyed and sputtered as the liquid burned his throat.

"That is disgusting," he choked.

"It will help clear your throat and make you sleep," she assured him, "something I know you have not been doing."

Erik glared at her with little conviction. Making a disgusted noise he shoved the glass back into her hands. He already felt tired and Antoinette seemed to be telling the truth, he could feel his eyelids getting heavy.

"Have a good sleep Erik."

"Shuddup."

Antoinette shook her head and threw a thin blanket over him. He looked paler then usual and there was a dark circle under his left eye, he had obviously been neglecting himself again. She went to the kitchen and got some bread and cheese, placing it on the small table she left the room.

When Antoinette entered her room after the performance she was surprised to be greeted by Erik's steady breathing. She had half expected him to wake up and leave; however judging by the blanket and the fact that none of the food had been eaten she guessed that he hadn't even woken up.

It was strange, he looked so harmless now. Fast asleep, head tilted slightly to one side and mouth slightly open. If anyone saw him now they would not believe him to be the cause of every problem in the theatre.

Very carefully Antoinette pulled back the blanket and untied the cravat and unbuttoned his jacket, waistcoat and the first few buttons of the white shirt underneath. He barely stirred and she realized just how tired he must have been. She replaced the blanket carefully and brushed the back of her hand across his cheek.

"Poor dear," she murmured.

With a heavy sigh she lied down in her bed. She was tired and sleep claimed her quickly. At least the performance had gone well, and there would be no notes from the Ghost to say otherwise.

"Erik," Antoinette hissed, "Erik wake up, there is someone at the door."

Erik opened his eyes and stared blearily at her for a moment before realization dawned on him, "What?"

"Hide, there is someone at the door."

He sighed and dragged himself to his feet and positioned himself against the wall, just out of sight of the door. Antoinette double-checked before opening it.

"Maman," Meg exclaimed, "you have to come maman!"

"Meg, what is it dear?"

"Madame hurry and come with us, Isabelle is sick Madame," Christine said desperately.

"Very sick maman, she has a stomach ache and there's blood, hurry maman."

"Oh my dears," Antoinette chuckled softly as she realized what was happening, "Isabelle is not sick, but I will be there in a moment. Go back to the dormitory, I will be right there."

The two girls exchanged nervous glances and hurried away. They were still in there nightgowns. Antoinette shook her head and turned back to her room. Erik was doing up the buttons of his waistcoat.

"Enough excitement for one morning?" he asked scratchily, then he cleared his throat.

"So you're throat is still sore?" Antoinette asked. Then she pressed her hand against his cheek, "well at least your fever is gone. Here eat this."

"I should go."

"And where do you have to be?"

"No where."

"Then you will stay here. You will not get any better if you return to that lair of yours. Not unless you plan on actually eating and sleeping."

"I might just do that."

"Eat."

Erik sighed and took the bread, it was stale and the crumbs irritated his throat and made him cough. He groaned when Antoinette offered him a glass of water and another small glass of the amber liquid. He drank the water and glared at the other glass.

"I am not drinking that again, it was vulgar."

"You will drink it if you want to get better. I have to go talk with my girls."

"Ah that talk," Erik said wryly, and then he drank the liquid.

"Yes that one," she chuckled as Erik choked on the drink again, "I will return in a bit."

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, slumping back into the chair and frowning.

Antoinette was about to leave when she turned back, "It has been a long time Erik."

"Yes, it has indeed," Erik, said, his expression lightening.

* * *

The door closed and Erik leaned his head back, it had been a long time. To think that one stupid comment, one that most likely meant nothing, had caused such a huge rift to form between them. And yet she was still there to help him, just as she had been when they were young. She had told him something once, when he had hurt himself and she had helped him. _Everyone needs someone Erik, even ghosts._

Erik spent nearly two hours in the room before he started to get restless. He supposed that the talk was either taking longer than expected or that Antoinette had had something else to do as well.

"You are still here?" she asked upon entering the room.

"I had no where else to go," he grumbled, "and you have a very strange definition of 'a bit.'"

"Well I did not expect you to stay," she replied, "after all it has been, what? Four years since we have actually spoken?"

"We have spoken far more recently then that Madame."

"You speaking from inside walls and ceilings does not count. I mean since we have actually spoken Erik, a face-to-face."

"I guess that is true Madame…four years?"

"Since Christine first came to the theatre."

"That is an awfully long time."

"Yes it is…I do not even remember why. I remember that you were angry over something, but not what."

"You called me strange," he said softly, "that is why I was angry…"

"I remember now. You know that I did not mean what I said that way, don't you Erik?"

"I guess I do…I always seem to find insults where there aren't any. I fear that I did the same on that day. I over reacted and look what it has done. Four years is a long time."

He heard her chuckle as she shook her head and he couldn't help but give a short laugh, "What Madame?"

"Nothing my friend, I am just glad to see you again. Quite truthfully I have been worrying about you these past years. Lord knows what you do in that lair of yours, I at least know that you do not take care of yourself."

"No, you were always the one to do that Madame…it seems that you still do."

"Old habits," she sighed, "what would you have done without me?"

"I would most likely have starved…I should go."

"If you ever need a friend Erik-"

"If I ever need a friend I know where to find you…good day Madame."

He gave a neat little bow before making his way to the door. Pressing his ear against it he slowly pushed it open. The hall was empty and he made his way quickly to the first passage he could find. He felt a great deal better thanks to Antoinette; he supposed that she was still his guardian of sorts, even after so many years. It had been good to talk with her again; still, he did not intend to share his secrets with her. She was a dear friend, but he feared that she would not approve of his lessons with Christine.

* * *

**Ooh, look an update as promised. I saw Beauty adn the Beast last night (musical) and it was amazing! I loved it so much and I want to see it again...but back on track. Thank you Mouse for the review and look, now you know what happened! Well read and review, emphasize on the review part of that since you are obviously reading.**


	25. XXV

XXV

Meg tugged on Christine's hand as she led her out of the theatre. The dancer's had all been given the day off and Meg wanted to go into the city to look at the shops. Christine was against this however, first of all it was threatening to rain and second of all, Antoinette did not approve of them going out in the city alone. Meg of course didn't find reason in her mother's advice.

"Oh hurry up Christine, nothing bad will happen."

"What if Madame finds out?"

"We won't tell her and she won't find out. Please Christine, I just want to look in the shops. We might even have enough to buy something."

"We get paid less than the horses Meg."

"The horses get paid?"

"Meg, Madame said that we shouldn't go out alone."

"We'reeleven years old, we can take care of ourselves."

"Meg..."

Despite her objections Christine followed Meg out onto the streets. Antoinette would occasionally take them out to shop or browse the stores. They never purchased much, maybe a hair ribbon or at the most a new dress or shoes. It was still fun to look though and Christine soon forgot about her objections as they looked at some hair ribbons in a shop window.

"I wish we could buy them," Meg pouted, "they're so pretty."

"Maybe for Christmas," Christine suggested, "Madame will probably get them for you."

"But that is nearly a month away," Meg sighed, "in fact it's more like two months!"

"Well yes…but it is coming."

"And what about you Christine? Maman doesn't buy gifts for you."

"That's alright, I don't need any new hair ribbons…we should probably go Meg. Its getting late and Madame will get angry."

"I guess so...but lets look in the candy shop first. Just to see what there is. Maybe we have just enough for one little treat?"

"Well…alright, but we have to hurry."

"Hurry up then!" Meg giggled and ran off towards the shop, Christine following behind her.

* * *

Erik meandered through the cellars, stopping and investigating items that had long been forgotten in the years that the theatre had been operational. Most of the items were old costumes and props that had been used and forgotten about. He absently picked up a piece of broken glass and regarded his reflection in it. 

He didn't have lessons with Christine that day, though he would occasionally sit in the chapel when they weren't scheduled. Sometimes she would come to talk and he liked to be there for those instances. Today he knew that Christine had gone out with Meg and didn't expect her to visit their secret place.

"What have we here?" he asked, picking up a piece of broken glass. He frowned at it and tossed it aside, "apparently nothing of value."

Erik was surprised at he way boredom seemed to gnaw at his mind; it had been a long time since he had actually been bored. Usually he would have something to do, whether it was teaching Christine, composing music or simply wreaking havoc on the theatre.

"Boring," he sang softly, kicking a piece of wood out of his way.

Taking a last look around the cellar he decided to go and see what his manager was up to. It had been weeks since he had actually spied on the poor man, hopefully that would provide some amusement.

"Thank you Monsieur Reyer and good day."

Erik watched as the conductor left the office and Monsieur Lefevre sat back in his chair. The manager flipped through some papers before sighing heavily and looking at the calendar. With resigned efficiency he moved across the room and opened the safe behind the painting on the wall. Taking out two ten thousand franc notes Monsieur Lefevre made his way back to the desk where an envelope remain open.

"Here you are my friend," he sighed and scribbled something on the front, "twenty-thousand francs."

Erik smiled, the man was a bit late paying his salary, of course he hadn't really noticed, actually using the money was quite rare. Everything he needed could be obtained through the theatre. Clothes, food, anything else he could possibly want for, it was all in the theatre. In fact the money was more a test to see how far they would go to please him, and they certainly had gone far. Twenty thousand francs a month, that was over twice the amount a regular architect might receive in a year.

"Foolish man," Erik chuckled, turning and moving back down the passage. There were better things to do then watch a man do paper work; all he had to do was find them. He vaguely recalled that there was to be a small gala at the theatre that night, yes, that would provide some amusement if he planned it correctly.

* * *

"See, I told you we wouldn't get in trouble," Meg teased as her and Christine sat down in the dormitory, "maman will never even know." 

"Never know what?" Simonette asked, "Where have you two been all day?"

"Out," Meg replied.

"In the city?" Simonette asked, "Oh, Madame doesn't like us to go out by ourselves."

"We weren't alone," Christine, pointed out, "technically we were together. The two of us."

"Still…you'd better hope she doesn't find out."

"How would she?" Meg asked, "Christine and I certainly aren't going to tell her and you're not going to tell her either…right?"

"Of course not!"

"Then she won't know. Besides we didn't get in any trouble. What did you do today Simonette?"

"Not much, Susanne and I helped with the little ones and then we gossiped a little with the others."

"About what?" Christine asked, "is there anything new to hear about?"

"Nope, nothing at all really. Just who is whose lover and who is going to get sacked."

"Someone's getting fired?"

"Who knows," Simonette replied, "no one knows whose going to leave the theatre except them, the manager or the Phantom of the Opera. After all he is the one that fires everyone…I hear that Elisa might be leaving the theatre."

"Oh?" Meg and Christine leaned in, "why is that?"

"Rumour is that she's pregnant," Simonette whispered, "and you can't dance when you've got a big belly."

"My maman danced when she was pregnant," Meg said.

"Yeah, but she was already the prima, or so I've heard. She could keep her job. Elisa can barely get into the lines as it is…anyways it's just a rumour. Probably not even true."

"There's a gala here tonight," Christine commented, "I wonder what that will be like."

"I think it will be a bunch of rich men and women dressed in their finest suits and gowns and jewellery," Meg giggled, "just like all the other galas, except this time there is no performance before it…speaking of performances, what is the opera doing next?"

"No one knows," Christine replied, "at least none of us. I thought it was going to be announced tomorrow."

"Madame did seem busier than usual, that can only mean she was choosing lines," Simonette commented, "hey, why don't we go and get something to eat?"

"Alright," Meg agreed, "Christine?"

"I'll come."

The next morning Monsieur Lefevre announced that the theatre would put on a performance of _Macbeth _if the Ghost approved. The lines had been decided and the music had been handed out, but the announcement was overshadowed by rumours that the Opera Ghost had attended the gala the night before.

"They say he was dressed all in black with a cloak and a white mask," Jacqueline murmured.

"I've heard that he's terribly ugly and that is why he wears the mask," Simonette added.

"What did he do at the gala?" Christine asked.

"They say he insulted the Comte de Querat," Meg said, "and he is one of the theatres most generous patrons."

"What did he say to him?" Simonette asked.

"I don't know," Meg, admitted, "I wasn't there. But he was apparently really angry and left. He might stop supporting the theatre now."

"Really?" Christine asked, "but that can't be good."

"Girls," Antoinette said sharply, "if you would please go to the practise room, you must begin learning the ballets. Go and no more gossiping."

* * *

Erik rested his chin on his hands as he stared at the wall in front of him. The gala had been far more amusing then he had ever thought possible. Completely by accident he had ended up insulting one of the theatres most prominent patrons. Of course the other man had started it all by criticizing Erik's mask. It had been some snide remark about it not being a masquerade, he didn't really remember nor did he care. 

"Angel?"

"Yes Christine?"

"Oh wonderful, you're there."

"Of course I am my dear, have you been practising?"

"Yes Angel, I did my scales before I came."

Very good my dear, why don't we start where we left off, do you remember?"

Christine nodded her head and began to sing the aria of Queen of the Night from _The Magic Flute_. Erik was pleased when he had to do very little but listen. She still needed reminders about posture and other trivial things, but in a few years all that would pass. Even now his few criticisms could wait until after she finished the song.

"You are improving greatly Christine, I am proud of you. Still try to remember not to reach for the notes, it will not do you any good."

"I know, it's just hard."

"It will get easier with time. You are singing difficult songs now and it will be harder to reach the high notes, but with time they will come. Trust me Christine."

"I always have…"

Erik couldn't help but smile at that remark, to have someone trust him completely was new to him, "Thank you Christine."

"Do you think that I could try it again? I'll try not to reach this time."

"Why don't you try something a bit easier?"

"I'd rather try the aria again, please Angel?"

"Alright Christine, you may try it again."

After the lesson was finished Erik returned to the lair and sat down at the organ. He depressed three keys in turn and sighed, pulling a piece of blank paper and a pen towards him he began to record the notes he played. In the end he gave up and just let the music flow from him, he could record it later if he remembered, no one would ever read it anyways.

* * *

Christine flopped back on her bed, "Rehearsals, rehearsals, rehearsals." 

"That's a very good description of our lives," Meg murmured, "but you left out rehearsals, rehearsals, sleep."

"I really want to sleep," Christine muttered, "I'm exhausted…"

"Can we eat first?"

"Hmm…yes."

The two girls wandered towards the kitchen to get a small supper. In the theatre you normally ate when it was possible, which meant a small quick breakfast, a very rushed lunch and then supper, the largest meal if you chose to go to it. However with rehearsals in full swing many of the performers found it rather difficult to make it for a full supper. Bread and cold ham in hand Meg and Christine headed back for the dormitory.

"I wonder if the Ghost will attend the opening performance," Meg mused, "he hasn't shown up a lot lately."

"I don't know…besides him not coming could be considered better then him attending."

"Yeah, but its not as exciting. Its funny to see Monsieur Lefevre all worried, did you see him after that gala?"

"Yes, he was running around here like a madman, lucky that the Comte decided not to leave the theatre eh?"

Meg giggled, "Yes, but it would have been funnier if he did. I think Monsieur Lefevre would have had a fit."

Once back in the dormitory the girls finished their meals and talked. Several of the other dancers were already in and by the end they all ended up gossiping. The older girls had news of the masquerade that was to be held yet again on the new years. Apparently it was already being planned despite the fact that it was over a month away.

"I think it snowed today," Simonette said, "one of the stable boys told me so."

"Really?" Meg asked, "We should go outside and see."

"Its dark out Meg, and where would we go to look?" Simonette asked.

"Fine…but tomorrow I want to go and look, right after rehearsal!"

"Alright," Christine agreed.

The next day after rehearsals the girls all scurried towards the stable yards. It turned out that the stories were true, little white flakes drifted from the sky and melted and the backs of the warm horses that were being lead around the yard. Christine smiled and left while Meg talked about Christmas, she had a lesson to attend and did not want to be overly late.

Erik hummed absently as he waited; he wasn't worried that someone might hear. If they did they would only say that it was the Ghost and let it be. Besides, no one ever came into the chapel unless it was a Sunday, and even then it was rare.

"That's lovely," Christine, commented, "what is it?"

"It is nothing Christine. How are you today?"

"I am wonderful, did you know that it is snowing?"

"Really?"

"Yes, its so pretty, it makes Meg think of Christmas. She wants some new hair ribbons and that's when she's going to get them."

"Is that so Christine?"

"Mmm hmm, Madame will get them for her."

"And what will you get Christine?"

"Oh…I don't get anything most years. I don't have a maman or papa to get me a gift."

"That is a shame," Erik said softly, it was hard to believe that he hadn't learned of this in the past years, "what is it you want Christine?"

"I don't know…I kind of like the hair ribbons and it would be nice to have one. It doesn't matter though, Christmas is a long ways away."

"Would you like to begin now?"

"Yes Angel."

"Very well then, I have something new for you to try today…"

When the lesson was over Christine sat down again, "I was hoping we could talk today."

"You can always talk to me Christine. What is it you wanted to talk about?"

"Nothing really…did you know my papa used to play me the prettiest song on the violin?"

"What song was that Christine?"

"The Resurrection of Lazarus. It was my favourite song for the longest time, I think if I heard it again it still would be…do you know that song Angel?"

"I think I do Christine, would you like me to play it for you at our next lesson?"

"Would you?" she asked, eyes brightening, "oh that would be magnificent!"

"Then I will do that for you."

"Thank you so much Angel…I must go, good bye Angel!"

"Good bye Christine."

Upon returning to his lair Erik began to sift through the papers and other devices that had somehow made their way into his home. He had promised her music and would give it to her, if only he could find it. He had not used his violin in many years and was not entirely sure where he had left it. With a heavy sigh he realized that he also had no idea where the music was, somewhere lost in the endless piles of scores that he owned. 

"I need to clean this place," he muttered as he began the endless search for the instrument and the sheet music. He could already tell that it would take him until the next lesson to find them.

* * *

**Wow, look at how long the chapter was! Alrighty Chibi, it sucks when life gets in the way doesn't it? I know, school takes up so much time, especially chemistry...ugh! Anywho, I am glad you liked sick Erik, there _is_ somethini fun about torturing the characters you love, especially the hero and thank you for the ice cream, i loooove ice cream! Lotte Rose 37, glad to hear you broken record like self again, I'm glad that you are in love with the chapter, I loved writing it, and you can give Erik a get well kiss, watch: (runs up and kisses Erik), its not that hard and very fun. Mouse, happy early birthday, in case I don't update or remember and yes that talk is always...fun...yeah, ever so much fun. Keep reviewing my wonderful readers and I pray to have some new people reviewing hmm (hint, hint, nudge nudge). Love you all!**


	26. XXVI

XXVI

"You seems excited Christine," Meg commented after the rehearsal.

"Oh?" Christine asked as she finished her stretches and stood up quickly, "I'm sorry Meg but I have to go. I'll see you in the dormitory?"

"I guess so…where are you going Christine?"

"No where Meg, just the chapel."

"Alright…see you later then."

Christine jogged into the chapel and made sure to close the door behind her. She had never heard her Angel play before, he had always used his voice to teach her, still there was no doubt in her mind that he would be amazing. Before calling to him she lit a candle for her father and said a quick prayer.

"Angel, are you there?"

"Of course I am Christine."

"Are you going to play for me today like you promised?"

"Of course I am Christine, would I break my promise to you?"

"No…I'm sorry I didn't mean to doubt you."

"Think nothing of it Christine."

Christine let out a little sigh of relief at his gentle tone and kneeled on the floor. The sound of a bow being drawn across strings filled the room and she couldn't help but smile, even that simple action created such a gorgeous sound. When he began to play she closed her eyes and listened to the notes rise and fall, it was just as she remembered it and, if possible, more beautiful. When the last notes finished echoing through the small room she opened her eyes again and smiled.

"That was beautiful Angel," she whispered.

"I'm glad you are happy my dear…would you like to sing today?"

"I think not, if that's alright."

"It is fine Christine."

"I should actually go, Meg will wonder where I am."

"Good bye Christine."

"Good bye Angel."

* * *

Erik placed the violin back in its case carefully and folded the music before tucking it into his cloak. He wasn't sure he had ever seen somebody look so happy before and yet at the same time there had been a hint of sadness that lurked in her eyes. What truly astonished him though was that he had been the source of the happiness, something that very rarely happened. 

With a small sigh he left the chapel and made his way back through the cellars. The gondola was waiting exactly where he left it and he poled it back to the shore of the lake. He placed the violin on the nearest table and removed his cloak, Christine had said hat it had been snowing the last time they had had lessons. He hadn't been able to go and see whether the child had been telling the truth, though he didn't think for a moment that she would lie to him.

With a smooth motion he dawned the cloak again and climbed back into the gondola to make his ascent to the theatre again. He had nothing better to do for the rest of the night and wanted to see whether it had indeed snowed, or had continued since it would probably have melted by now.

"Seventeen floors," he muttered distastefully once he reached the door leading onto the roof, "why in God's name would anyone want to build something with that many stairs?"

The air that greeted him was cold and he drew the cloak closer around him. The roof was indeed dusted with a thin layer of white snow and small white flakes drifted lazily through the air to greet them. The little specks of white reminded him of the stars that the grey clouds blocked from view. Little cold, white stars falling to the ground to join their companions.

"Beautiful is it not?"

Erik started violently at the sound of another's voice and whirled around to see Antoinette watching him. She gave a small chuckle at his obvious surprise.

"Did you not hear me coming Erik?"

"No I did not," he replied curtly, "good evening Madame."

"I did not mean to startle you Erik, I apologise…enjoying the night?"

"I wanted to see if it had snowed yet, I suppose my question has been answered."

"The snow…you always used to ask me if it had snowed when you were younger. Do you remember? Every winter it would be the same thing."

"I remember, I rarely got to see snow…the gypsies, they went to Spain for the winter you see. But I remembered liking it…"

Antoinette nodded her head slightly and wrapped her arms around herself; she had very rarely heard Erik talk about his life before the theatre. Even when he had it would be much like what he had just done, small snippets that meant very little out of context.

"So tell me Madame, how did you know I was up here?"

"I saw you, oh do not look so shocked. Anyone else would have thought it a shadow, I just happen to know you better then some."

"You are the only one in the theatre who truly knows me Madame."

"Oui, I guess that is true, and yet I still know so little. Enjoy your night Erik, I am going in where it is warm."

"Suit yourself Madame."

Antoinette clucked her tongue and brushed the snow off her clothes as she went inside, Erik simply turned his gaze back to the city. He had forgotten how beautiful Paris looked from the rooftop, hundreds of little sparkling lights in the night. But the cold was starting to set in and he turned away from the scene to go inside.

Time at the opera passed slowly when there were no rehearsals and exactly the opposite when there were. Performers moved constantly back and forth, costume designers and prop makers fussed over how little time they had to work on the people or the props and the stagehands bustled about attempting to set up the stage.

The performances came and went in spectacular galas and diamond clad guests. _Macbeth _went off without a hitch and before anyone knew it they were well into the month of December and with that Christmas.

"Good evening Angel," Christine said somewhat glumly.

"What is wrong Christine?" Erik asked, "Is something troubling you?"

"Oh…no, and I can't stay long. Madame is taking Meg and me to a service tonight."

"A service?"

"Yes, for Christmas Eve. She said that we couldn't attend the Christmas service because there is a gala being held here. I'm sorry."

"Do not apologise Christine."

"I'm sorry…Meg is really excited about Christmas, she's going to get a gift from Madame and some of the other girls get to go home to see their families."

"Is that so Christine?" Erik asked, suddenly he understood why she seemed depressed.

"Yes…well I should go."

"That is fine Christine, will you come tomorrow?"

"Yes Angel, if you want."

"I do Christine."

"Good night then…until tomorrow."

Erik watched as she left the chapel and frowned, it hardly seemed fair for everyone else to have family to visit or receive gifts from while Christine had no one. He returned to his lair and grabbed a cloak before making his way back up to the theatre and to the hidden exit. Erik pulled the hood up to cover his face and black the cold.

It had been years since Erik had traversed the streets of Paris and he quickly became irritated as he searched for the shop he wanted. They were all closed of course, it was late and if the owners were not home or in bed then they were attending church services. That did not bother him though, he had never intended to go shopping and when he found the store he wanted he removed the lock pick from his cloak.

It didn't take long for the lock to open and for Erik to slip inside; he made no noise as he moved through the store. Even in the darkness his vision was perfect and he quickly noted a staircase behind the counter that led to an apartment upstairs. Quickly he retrieved the item he wanted and slipped them into the hidden repositories in the cloak. Even though he could hear no noise from upstairs that did not mean they were asleep and he made his exit quickly, closing the door behind him and turning back in the direction of the theatre.

"We saw that," a man's voice said smugly.

"That is called break and enter, and I suspect stealing as well?" another man added.

"That is quite unfortunate for you then," Erik replied silkily, curling his fingers around the rope in his cloak.

"Us?" the first man asked, "monsieur I think you may be a bit confused. There are two of us and one of you. I'm sure the gendarmes will be more then thrilled when we bring you in. You are the unfortunate one."

"I do not doubt they would be, but as I said, it is quite unfortunate that you have seen me…"

There was a quiet whistling and the first man grabbed at his neck, clawing at the rope that had closed around it and cut off his air supply. Erik waited as he choked and gasped before giving a sharp tug, the sickening snap of a breaking neck and the man's body fell to the ground. The second man lunged just as his friend's body hit the ground, Erik dodged to the side, dropping the rope and pulling out the small stiletto that he kept tucked away.

"Like I said," Erik hissed, wrapping his arm tightly around the man's chest and placing the blade of the dagger at his throat, "it is unfortunate that you caught me."

"Please," the man whimpered, "Oh God p-please don't kill me…I-I won't tell anyone!"

Erik smiled and pulled the small dagger away from the man's throat. He could feel him relax slightly at the small action, "Of course you won't tell…you won't be able to!"

With a growl Erik slammed the man's head against the stonewall of the store and allowed the body to fall limply to the ground. He didn't bother checking for a pulse, if he wasn't dead he surely wouldn't be able to recall anything that had happened due to brain injury.

With a flick of the wrist Erik removed the noose from the first man's neck and returned the lasso to its hiding place in the cloak. It was late and he had no doubts that the owner's of the shop had heard him. Pulling the hood of the cloak back up he slipped into the shadows and made his way back to the theatre.

* * *

**We got to see Erik's dark side in this chapter eh? Lotte Rose 37, yes Erik got all better, and the get well kisses probably did help, and yes Erik is going to give Christine a gift, though as you can see his methods of procuring one are...well you read the chapter. Mouse, so you are a turkey-mouse...awesome! I'm glad you thought the chapter was sweet, that was what I was going for. Anyways, hope you all enjoyed reading this chapter even though it was atad dark. Umm as always if you're reading review. I'll update soon.**


	27. XXVII

XXVII

"Have you heard?" Monsieur Reyer asked, rushing up beside Antoinette.

"Heard what Monsieur?" she asked irritably, "I am going to see my daughter, we were to go out today."

"This," he replied, shoving a paper into her hands, "I got it on my way here."

Antoinette frowned slightly and read the heading on the page in front of her: _Meurtre! _The single word was bold and the article beneath told of the murder of two men, something that, though terrible, did not immediately catch Antoinette's attention. It was the report on the one man's death that caught her attention, a broken neck with injuries that resembled rope burn received prior to his death.

"I should let you go," Monsieur Reyer said, "I wouldn't want to deprive you of time with your daughter."

"Merci Monsieur Reyer and merry Christmas…would you mind if I kept this?"

"Mot at all. Merry Christmas Madame Giry."

Antoinette folded the paper in half and made her way to the dormitory; on her way she met Christine, who was hurrying in the other direction. The girl gave a small curtsey and said a quick hello before hurrying off down the hall.

"Christine!"

"Yes Madame?" she asked, turning her head.

"Hurry back, I am taking Meg out and she wanted you to come."

"Thank you Madame, I will hurry."

Antoinette smiled and pushed and finished the walk to the dormitory. Many of the girls had gone home for the rest of the week and some would not return until after the new years. It didn't matter though; the next performance was not due to start rehearsals until two days after the Bal Masque.

"Maman!" Meg exclaimed.

"Meg," she replied and took out the small gift she had for her daughter, "Merry Christmas."

"Oh thank you maman!" she exclaimed, unwrapping the small box and pulling out the hair ribbon and small silver chain, "they're so pretty maman, thank you so much."

"You're welcome my dear. Now get ready, I promised to take you and Christine out for the afternoon non?"

"Where are we going maman?"

"I though perhaps we could go skating?"

"Really?"

"If you hurry."

Meg smiled widely and quickly gathered her clothes for the day. Antoinette smiled as Meg bounced behind the dressing screen and turned to leave. She wanted to speak with Erik before she left and hoped that he would be somewhere where he could hear her. She headed towards the chapel, hoping that he would be there.

* * *

Christine lit a candle for her father and said a quick prayer, and then she waited patiently for her Angel, smoothing her skirts before her and looking around the small room.

"Christine," his voice sounded warm and cheerful, "Merry Christmas my dear."

"Angel!" she exclaimed cheerfully, "merry Christmas. I can't stay long, Madame is taking Meg and I out for the afternoon."

"How kind of her."

"It should be fun," she replied, smiling at the thought. Two years ago Madame had taken her and Meg skating in the Bois de Boulogne. She hoped that they would do that again, "I hope we go skating."

"Christine, did you get anything for Christmas?"

"No…but I didn't think I would so…"

"I have something for you Christine."

"Angel?" she asked, unsure of how an Angel would be able to get her a present, "is it a song Angel?"

"No my dear, look on the seat by the window, it is there."

Christine turned her head and noticed the small box sitting on the seat. Very carefully she picked it up and examined it before opening. Her eyes widened and a smile graced her face when she saw the necklace that rested in the box. She pulled it out and quickly put it on. Adjusting it so that the small gold music note rested straight.

"Oh, thank you Angel, thank you so much!"

"It was my pleasure Christine, you look beautiful."

"Thank you…really, I love it."

"You should go Christine, I would not want you to be late."

Christine nodded her head slowly and turned to leave. On her way back up to the dormitory she met Antoinette going the other way. She gave a quick curtsey and hurried up to see Meg. She wanted to know what her friend had received from her mother.

* * *

Erik stood up and stretched, he had been sitting in the chapel and waiting since before the sun had risen. He was about to leave when he heard the door of the chapel slam open and Antoinette's voice cut sharply through the air.

"Erik! Erik if you are there then come out here now!"

"My, my Madame, what have I done now?" he asked silkily.

"So you are here, come out here now Erik."

"One moment Madame," he growled and made his way to the door, opening it he stepped out into the small room, "what is it now Madame?"

He was surprised when a newspaper collided with his chest and fell to the floor. Rubbing the spot where the paper had hit he looked at the scattered pages that now littered the chapel floor. _Meurtre _stared back at his in bold black letters.

"Rope burns?" Antoinette asked, "That is what it says in the paper. How many people have rope burns when they suffer a broken neck?"

"How should I know," he replied, turning away from her and the paper.

"Why were you even out there Erik? You almost never leave the theatre, you haven't in years."

Erik kicked the floor absently, "You assume that I am the one who killed them."

"Erik do not innocent and answer my question."

"I was just out, is that so hard to believe? Perhaps I got tired of constantly wandering the empty hallways and secret passages of the theatre!" he snapped, "Maybe for once I wanted to get out."

"Then why Erik?" she asked, "Please tell me there was a reason."

"There was," Erik replied defensively, "do you think I would simply kill for the pleasure of it? They threatened me Madame, and that is all you need to know. There has always been a reason!"

He turned away and headed for the door, he was nearly there when Antoinette caught his sleeve and turned him back to face her. He could feel his heart sink when he met her eyes, she was disappointed and he quickly averted his gaze.

"Erik," she said gently, "please do not storm out like this. I do not want to be your enemy, just your friend…look at me Erik, please promise me that there will be no more murders."

"Madame…" he murmured.

"Look at me and promise."

"I promise," he said, looking her in the eyes.

"No more murders?"

"No more murders," he repeated and turned away again, he could feel the tears burning his eyes, "I promise…merry Christmas Madame."

He heard the door of the chapel close and picked the paper up from the floor. He folded the pages neatly and lay it on the seat by the window. Wiping irritably at his eyes he entered the secret passage and made his way back to his lair.

* * *

Christine and Meg were both ready when Antoinette returned. They bobbed up and down excitedly. Antoinette led the girls out onto the streets and summoned a cab.

"The Bois de Boulognes please."

"Yes Madame."

The driver flicked the reins and the carriage jostled forwards. Christine and Meg both watched out the small glass windows at the passing stores and apartments. The drive was long though, and by the time they arrived and the Bois both Meg and Christine were half asleep in their seats.

"We are here," Antoinette, said, "come girls, get out."

Antoinette spent most of the afternoon watching the two girls playing on the ice. She didn't care for skating all that much, but they found it terribly amusing. For nearly an hour the two chased each other around on the ice, the cold didn't even seem to bother them. It wasn't until mid-afternoon that they finally came off the ice.

"Are you ready to leave now?" Antoinette asked as they came over.

"Yes maman," Meg replied.

"And did you have fun?"

"Oh yes," Christine replied, "Thank you Madame."

"Thank you maman."

"You are welcome my dears. Come, we must find a cab."

* * *

Erik sat in Box Five and watched as the theatre was cleaned. The theatre was extremely boring over the days between Christmas and New Years. The theatre seemed to do nothing but practise and clean. He hadn't even worried about being caught sitting in the box, after all it had already been cleaned. In fact he found that he could see his face in the polished wood.

"Well, at least they are keeping my theatre clean…sickeningly so," he added after drawing his finger across the wood and hearing it squeak.

He finally became tired of sitting and stood up with the intent of returning to his lair. On his way back he stopped by the chapel, Christine was not there and he continued his way back through to the cellars. He was in no rush and leaned against the wall, watching the boat bob up and down on the water, he considered attending the masquerade the next day and decided that he did not really feel like it.

Morning dawned pale and cold, or at least Erik assumed that, it was hard to tell when one lived so far underground. Still, the lair was cold and he quickly dawned a robe to try and dull the chill. He thought about going up to see if Christine was in the chapel and decided against it, he did not feel like making the long journey up to the theatre and besides, he had music in his mind and needed to get it out.

The hours slipped away as he played, they often did and he only stopped when his hand cramped terribly from the playing. With a resolved sigh he stood up and paced his home, he knew that he couldn't play any longer and wanted for something to do. Anything but sit idle and watch the water lap at the lake shore. The masquerade! The idea struck him and he nearly gave a cry of delight.

He grabbed his cloak and put it on before searching for a mask. He didn't want to wear the same white half mask as he did everyday to the masquerade. It seemed unoriginal. He finally found a full faced black mask with flames painted around the eyes.

"Perfect," he whispered and replaced his mask with the other.

He checked in the mirror before leaving his lair and making his way up to the main level and main hall of the Opera Populaire. He could hear the music long before he reached his destination. The hall spread out before him and he quickly picked Antoinette out of the crowd. With a small smirk he made his way over to her.

* * *

Antoinette stood with Messieurs Reyer and Lefevre and listened as the two men discussed the theatres financial situation. It seemed, although they paid such a large sum to the Opera Ghost, that the theatre was doing well and that they had had a strong year. Monsieur Reyer was considering the purchase of some new instruments and Monsieur Lefevre was inclined to allow him to do so.

"Madame Giry, I fear we are boring you," Monsieur Lefevre chuckled at length.

"Not at all, the affairs of the theatre are as important to me as to anyone. After all the salaries of my girls and I are all paid by you."

"Too true Madame, too true," he laughed, raising his glass of champagne, "and what is it you would like for the New Year? I'm sure there is something you would like for the dancers. Raises perhaps?"

"We all get along on our salaries and I am not inclined to asked for more money."

"Madame Giry is far more sensible then me then," Monsieur Reyer chuckled, "new instruments and the like and here she is saying that she does not want anything."

"I believe I like her better for it," Monsieur Lefevre jested.

"Just as you should," Madame Giry said jokingly.

"Oh, I wanted to compliment you on the gown," Monsieur Lefevre said, "It is quite lovely."

"Merci Monsieur," she replied glancing down at the deep green skirts, "if you would believe it was my girls who chose it. Something about it being pretty."

"They have good eyes then," Monsieur Reyer said.

Antoinette continued her discussion with the two men and did not notice the shadow that crept up behind her. When two cold gloved hand rested themselves on her shoulders she gave a small gasp and wheeled around to meet murky blue eyes engulfed in flames. Realization dawned on her and before she could help her self her fist collided with the man's chest.

"Oh," Erik said in mock agony, "that certainly is not the way to greet a gentleman."

"A gentleman should not sneak up on people," she countered.

"I? Sneak up?" he asked, a devilish smirk forming on his lips, "I would never sneak up on you Madame."

"Is that so?" she asked, "what about all the other times."

"I have never suck up on you," Erik said, rolling his eyes for effect, "is it my fault that you were not paying attention?"

Behind Antoinette's back Erik saw Messieurs Reyer and Lefevre exchanging curious glances. After all it was not every day that mysterious men snuck up on their ballet mistress and started to jest with her as if they were old friends or even young lovers.

"Why Madame, have you lost your manners in the time since I last saw you?" Erik asked "introduce be to your friends."

"Erik, Monsieur Reyer and Monsieur Lefevre," she said, motioning to each in turn, "Messieurs, a very old and dear friend of mine. Erik."

"A pleasure to meet you Monsieur…" Monsieur Lefevre trailed off.

"It is simply Erik," Erik replied, "and that is what you may call me. No 'monsieur' needed."

'"Very well then, a pleasure to meet you, Erik."

Erik did not move off after the introduction, as Antoinette had expected. Instead, quite to her surprise, he stayed and socialized with them. It was shocking to her just how social he was capable of being in the right mood. Of course she knew that that mood could change at any moment and kept a watch out for the signs that he was becoming agitated.

"So what is your profession Erik?" Monsieur Reyer asked after a while.

"Oh, I am a murderer, a thief and a madman," Erik replied in a tone just light enough that it could be taken as either a joke or the truth.

"You have wit," Monsieur Lefevre rumbled, "but what is your real profession?"

"I am a composer Monsieur," he replied, "and a bit of an architect as well."

"A composer?" Monsieur Reyer asked cheerfully, "how wonderful."

"Isn't it though?" Erik asked, eyes taking on a distant look.

"Has any of your work been published?" Monsieur Reyer persisted.

"No," Erik replied, eyes refocusing, "it is really more of a hobby."

The night continued and it wasn't long before Antoinette noticed the tell tale signs of boredom claim Erik. His eyes wandered and his answers to question became more vague. At one point it had taken three Monsieur Reyer three tries before he even got an answer. He began to shift back and forth and finally began to hum absently.

"Are we boring you?" Monsieur Lefevre asked.

"Hmm?" Erik frowned slightly, "oh, pardon my manners. I did not mean to act so distracted."

"Well I think that perhaps we have kept the young man in one place for too long," Monsieur Reyer said, "please, we would not be insulted if you left."

"In that case, good night Messieurs, Madame."

"I was actually about to leave as well," Antoinette said, "I have classes to teach tomorrow and would like to be awake enough to do so effectively."

She followed Erik back into one of the deserted halls and shook her head. She was truthfully amazed that he had lasted as long as he had.

"So did you enjoy your evening?" she asked.

"Yes Madame, it was thrilling. I was at least hoping to terrorize someone."

"Well if it is any consolation, I think that they were quite taken with you."

"Wonderful, I have made friends," he replied sarcastically, "if only they knew who I really was. Then they might not think me such a 'nice young man.'"

"Well have a good night Erik, I really must get to bed."

"Very well Madame, good night."

Antoinette clucked her tongue and made her way back to her room. It was amusing that the two people who were hit the hardest by Erik's demands seemed so taken with him. But then again why shouldn't they be? If Erik did not live underground he could have been an amazing man. He was talented beyond all reasoning and seemed to have an endless wit, no matter how annoying it could be.

With a final sigh she began to undo her dress and prepare for bed. There was always something to do in the theatre. Even while there were no rehearsals. Lesson to be taught and of course if there was nothing else there was usually some sort of paper work.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed the chapter and...I'm going to bed. Ha, well uh, yeah, review if you are reading, always love reviews, reviews are wonderful...wow I'm tired so don't mind my ramblings and simply enjoy the story.**


	28. XXVIII

XXVIII

Lessons, rehearsals and sleep, that seemed to be the life of all the dancers and when the theatre set the schedule for the next performances the entire place was thrown into mildly organized chaos yet again. Christine and Meg spent most of their time in the dormitories or on stage and Christine began to find it hard to get to her singing lessons on time and with enough energy to perform well.

"I know," she panted, "I'm late, please do not be angry Angel!"

"I'm not angry," he replied, though there was an edge to his voice, "Perhaps we should move your lessons until later though."

"No, I can't. Then I would be late to bed and Madame would be angry. Please, rehearsals will die down a bit soon."

"I do not care about soon, I care about now. And now my dear, you are too tired to do your best and I will not have any less. Go to bed and rest, only come from now on if you can do what I ask of you, understand?"

"Yes," Christine replied quietly. She hated it when her Angel spoke to her in that way. She knew he did not mean to be cruel, and his voice was always gentle, but it still felt like being scolded.

"Practice your scales though," he added, "you still need to use your voice."

"Could we just talk then?" Christine asked, sitting on the window seat.

"Of course Christine, what do you want to talk about?"

"Nothing…you're right, I should go to bed and rest."

She bade him farewell and hurried up to the dormitory where Meg was sitting on her bed and chatting with two of the other dancers. They spotted Christine and called her over, she sat down on her own bed and joined the conversation.

"Lights out," Antoinette called after an hour.

"Good night Madame!" the girls called and turned off the lamps.

"Christine?" Meg hissed, "are you asleep yet?"

"What do you think?" Christine replied, "what?"

"Where did you go after rehearsal? You missed supper."

"Meg can we talk in the morning?" Christine asked, hoping that her friend would forget, "I'm really tired from all the commotion."

"Alright. Good night Christine."

Christine heard the mattress groan as her friend rolled over and closed her eyes. Not only was it getting harder to find time for her lessons, but also to find excuses to where she went or why. As she drifted off to sleep she thought she could hear her Angel's voice and drifted off to the sound of his voice.

Erik found that time passed quickly for him. Hours bled by in a mixture of sound and writing. For a time he had taken a break from composing and had focussed on Christine, but with the ballet demanding more from the girl he had more time to focus on his music. The rich sound of the organ filled the lair again and his hands became calloused again as well as ink stained.

Weeks passed for him in this manner, lessons and composing, the occasional visit to the theatre for performances and to make sure his notes were received. One day he finally decided to pay a visit during the day, to observe the rehearsal and perhaps even say hello to an old friend.

"Madame," he said, allowing his voice to ring through the empty hallway. He was pleased when she put her hands on her hips and frowned.

"Speaking for the walls again are we Erik?"

"It is good to see you as well Madame," he replied silkily.

"Some day someone will come to see talking to thin air and wonder."

"Simply explain what you are doing then," Erik replied smugly, "talking to walls."

"Coming out Erik?"

"Give me a moment Madame."

He made his way to the exit of the passage and entered into the deserted hall. Antoinette immediately turned to greet him.

"I have not seen you in a long time," she said, "since when? The masquerade?"

"Correct, I have been very busy Madame."

"I can see," she said, motioning to his hands, "composing again?"

"Perceptive, very perceptive."

"Hmm, the fact that you have been lenient with Monsieur Lefevre was another sign, and that you have not been attending performances as often. Take care of yourself though; I know that you tend to neglect yourself. Do not forget to eat, or sleep."

"What would I do without you Madame?" he asked.

"Without me?" she repeated, "you would most likely starve or faint or perhaps fall in the lake and drown."

"Yes…well it wasn't actually the lake and in my defence I was much younger."

"So, why don't you tell me what brings the Phantom of the Opera above ground?"

"I was watching the rehearsal Madame and to grab a quick meal."

"And did you get something to eat?" Antoinette asked.

"Yes…tell me Madame, is it nice out?"

"The weather is fair, I believe it was raining earlier."

"I see, and it is dark out by now, isn't it?"

"What are you thinking Erik?"

"I am thinking," he said, pulling on his gloves, "that I will go for a walk."

"A walk?"

"Yes, I haven't been outside in ages and perhaps some fresh air will do me good."

"It certainly could not harm you," she agreed, "have a pleasant walk."

"Would you like to join me?" Erik asked as she walked away.

"No, I have too much work to do in the morning to spend long hours out in the dark with you. I trust you can manage without me?"

"One never know Madame," he replied with a wry smile, "I might fall in a lake and drown."

Antoinette rolled her eyes and headed to check on the dancers before she herself went to bed. All of the girls were sitting either on the floor or on their beds talking, very few of them actually sleeping. Meg and Christine were sprawled out on their beds, staring at the ceiling and talking to one another.

"Lights out," she said to a few moans of protest, "hurry up, there are rehearsals and practices tomorrow."

She waited until all the lights were out before closing the door. She could hear them whispering to one another but paid no attention to it. They were girls and she remembered the nights she had spent in the dormitory, giggling and whispering with her own friends. It was part of life in the corps.


	29. XXIX

**XXIX**

Erik watched Christine sing from his vantage point. There was something different about her, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. It wasn't anything terribly obvious, but it was there and he knew it. She ended the song and waited expectantly for his approval.

"Very good Christine," he said distantly, "go through it once more and you can go."

"Alright."

As she sang he tried to identify what was different. She had grown a bit over the past year or so, but that wasn't it. He nearly growled in frustration and tried to recall how old she was. He had met her when she was seven and it had been over five years since then.

"Was that better Angel?" she asked hopefully.

"It was wonderful Christine," he replied, "tell me child, how old are you?"

"I'm twelve," she replied.

"Of course, of course," Erik muttered, so he had been correct, "thank you Christine, you may go now."

She thanked him and hurried out of the chapel. He sighed and turned away from his vantage before beginning the trek down to his lair. She was twelve years old and giving that it was almost new Years again he guessed that she was almost thirteen. If he remembered correctly her birthday was in January. It was amazing how quickly time passed in the theatre or beneath it. He had often found that time meant very little down bellow, it all tended to meld together.

He was half way back when he changed his mind and went back up. He hadn't surveyed his theatre, or perhaps kingdom was a better word, in a long time and decided to do so. By the time he was back up almost all were in bed.

He started in the front hall and made his way slowly back. Everything was cleaned to perfection. The stage was of course cluttered with spare props from the last performance and was scuffed from the dancers' shoes.

He was making his way back to the stairs when he heard something. A woman's voice echoed through the apparently empty halls. He frowned slightly when he realized that something was wrong.

"No," she grunted, "get away from me!"

Erik glided around the corner to see one of the stagehands holding onto her arm with bruising force. He recognized the girl as one of the older dancers. The man pulled her toward him and she turned her face away in disgust.

"Buquet," Erik whispered, realizing who the man was.

"No!" the girl whimpered, "Get away…"

"Come on," he growled, jerking her back towards him.

"If I were you I would let her go," Erik said menacingly, "or I will be forced to intervene."

Joseph's eyes darted around and caught only the gleam of the white mask as it backed back into the shadows. His grip loosened and the dancer started to run away, straight for the dormitory. He moved to go after her but was dragged back when something tightened around his neck and pulled him to the ground.

"That isn't very wise," Erik hissed, looming over the man who was now lying on his back.

"Y-you!" he gasped, clawing at the noose.

"Me?" Erik asked.

"You-you're the Opera Ghost," he choked, "p-please don't kill me."

Erik regarded him coolly, "No, I won't kill you, I will instead allow you the privilege very few have ever been allowed."

Buquet's eyes widened in terror and a sardonic smiled twisted the lips of the man standing over him, "W-what is th-that?"

Erik leaned in very close and moved his hand up to his mask, "You get to see the face of the Devil's child," he growled, pulling off the mask.

Buquet gave a loud gasp and tried to back away from the face that sneered at him. Then the pressure of the rope was released and he scrambled to his feet, throwing the rope off as he ran. Erik laughed as he dashed away, allowing the cold sardonic sound to reverberate through the halls. Then with one swift motion he replaced the mask and headed directly for the secret passage.

Antoinette sighed irritable as the dancers listened to Buquet's stories. For some reason they all liked the fantastic stories the man told, even if he was normally drunk.

"I was attacked," he said dramatically, "last night, in the halls by the Opera Ghost himself. He was tall and shrouded in darkness and his face…"

"What about it?" Meg asked eagerly.

"He had deaths head, with yellow skin and no nose. He captured me with a lasso…a magical lasso."

"Back to work!" Monsieur Reyer scolded, "and enough of these stories."

"Merci," Antoinette thanked him, "girls to the practice room."

"Do we have to practice today?" Meg asked, "the masquerade is tonight and there won't be any rehearsals for a week."

"All the more reason to practice," Antoinette reasoned, "go now, I will be along in a minute."

The girls all sighed and began to mutter as they headed for the practice room. Antoinette could only chuckle, she remembered those days, being tired of dancing and still having to spend at least an hour practising. But right now she was curious about what Buquet had said. True, the man usually was drunk and if not drunk then hung over, but if Erik had really attacked him she wanted to know.

"Joseph," she called, "that was quite the story you came up with. A bit different from your usual though."

"I'm not making it up this time Madame," he said edgily, "I really was attacked by the Opera Ghost."

"I see," she said sceptically, "I would have thought you'd be dead if he had attacked you."

"No, he said he wouldn't and then showed me his face…it was the most retched thing I have ever seen. Don't believe me Madame? Then look," he pulled down the collar of his shirt to reveal the red rope burn he had received from the lasso.

"I see, the 'magical lasso?'"

"Aye, now I got to get back to work, have a good day Madame."

Antoinette nodded and turned to go the practice room. She would have to talk to Erik later, though she had to admit, she was impressed that he had kept his promise and let Buquet live. However she did not like the idea that he was using his face to frighten people, no matter how well it seemed to work.

After the practise was finished Antoinette made her way down to the fifth cellar, where she knew the boat would be if were above the theatre. When she saw the boat bobbing gently on the water she waited, Erik would be back soon.

"Madame Giry," he said before coming into sight, "so now you come to my world to visit. How thoughtful of you."

"It is far easier than finding you up above."

"So, to what do I owe this little visit? I suspect that it is nothing good."

"Joseph Buquet," Antoinette replied.

"Oh him…what about him?"

"You know perfectly well Erik. Attacking people in the dark now? Tell me, so you find it amusing?"

"Terribly so," he replied sarcastically.

"Explain then."

"I will have you know that I was helping one of your girls. Besides, I did not kill him so I do not know why you are so upset about all this."

"Because you should not be using your face to scare people Erik," she replied sharply, "Buquet has turned it into quite the story though. According to him you have death's head."

"How lovely…not even a thank you Madame?"

"For what?"

"Helping one of your girls. You really ought to tell them not to wander the theatre late at night. You never know what drunks are wandering the halls."

"Merci Erik, but next time just choke him until he is unconscious."

"As you wish Madame."

Antoinette gave a small laugh as he stepped into the boat, "Good night Erik!"

"Yes, yes, bonsoir Madame."

Antoinette gave a small sigh and started back up to the theatre. So, Buquet was apparently stalking the halls at night, that wasn't entirely unbelievable. She would have to be firmer in the curfew for the girls then.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry that this chapter isn't very long and that it took me so long to put it up. I was going to do it last night but I went to see The Full Monty and got back really late. So I hope you liked the short chapter and plase review. Thanks!**


	30. XXX

**XXX**

Cesar nickered and snuffled at Erik's gloved hand, searching for any treats that may be hidden there. Erik chuckled lightly and rubbed the black horse's neck.

"Nothing today," he murmured.

The young stallion snorted and nibbled playfully at the hem of the cloak. Erik pulled it away and tapped his nose good naturedly and looked around the dark stables. Another horse poked its head out of the stall and whinnied at the sight of Erik.

"Shhh," he hissed, reaching out and placing his hand firmly over the horse's nose. It gave another quieter whinny and snorted loudly.

"Oh, why are you making such a ruckus?" an older lead groom asked.

He reached out and patted the horse's cheek affectionately. As he did so Erik dashed towards the stable yard and behind one of the opera's coaches. The man caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and frowned.

"Who's there?" he called, "I saw you, come out here right now."

Erik hunkered down behind the coach, hoping that the shadows would conceal him well enough. The man was older and his night vision probably wasn't that good, but then again he had seen him dash behind the carriage.

"Come out from there," the man repeated, now standing right in front of the coach, "you shouldn't be out here at night. Someone might think you're a thief of some sort."

Erik met the man with nothing but silence as he backed into the stone wall. He had no escape now, with the wall at his back and the coach and the groom blocking his escapes.

"I'm not gonna hurt you," the man sighed, coming around the side of the coach.

Erik took the opportunity to roll underneath the vehicle. It wasn't the best place to hide, but it provided enough shadow that naught but the white mask showed in the darkness. As the man rounded the other side Erik rolled out from underneath the coach and dodged to the side.

The man stared at the empty space in front of him and frowned slightly, "Now where did you go?" he asked, half to himself.

Erik smirked slightly and hurried to the closest secret entrance he could find. Once safely in the pitch black tunnel he released a held breath and shook his head slightly. He would have to be more careful the next time he visited the stable. He could not have his cover blown by an overly wary young horse.

* * *

Erik watched as Christine sang, sketching her features on a sheet of paper. It had been a long time since he had practiced drawing people and found that it was more difficult than he had remembered. Of course he was never truly satisfied with his own sketches. 

"Very good," he murmured as he smudged the sheet, "but I would like you to practice more. I can tell that you have not been doing your scales as of late."

"I'm sorry Angel," she said quickly, "but its been so busy that I haven't had any time."

"Make time," he replied irritably, glancing at the sketch before him, "you will not improve or maintain your voice if you neglect it. You do not need much time to do scales Christine."

"Of course Angel…"

"You may go now if you wish, there is nothing more for you to do today."

"Good night then," Christine said, "I promise that I'll practice."

"That is all I ask of you," Erik replied gently.

Christine smiled and left the chapel, Erik sighed and began to go back to his lair. Once there he tacked the sketch up and wandered over to the organ to play. He knew that Christine had been busy, rehearsals were on again and they were at the height of them for _I puritani _and had started them for _Fidelio.

* * *

_

Meg and Christine sat together and watched the performers move across the stage. Carlotta was squawking at one of the others on stage for stepping on her dress. The poor woman looked as is she feared for her life.

"She really is a witch," Meg commented, "its not like Marie meant to step on that ugly costume."

"But its her," Christine pointed out, "to la Carlotta everything is an offence and everything is done on purpose."

"I hope the Phantom tells her off some day," Meg said with a devilish little smile.

"Meg! That is an awful thing to say."

"Aww come on Christine, nothing too terrible. Just hit her in the head with something."

"That still isn't very nice…oh, we're on again!"

Meg gasped and they both got to their feet and joined their lines. They both caught Antoinette's frown as they passed and offered weak apologetic smiles.

The rest of the rehearsal went well and Christine and Meg were soon giggling as they made their ways to the dormitory.

"Move, move out of my way dancing girls!" Carlotta demanded, pushing past the two.

"Hey!" Meg exclaimed as she jumped out of the way.

"Be quiet you little girls," Carlotta grumbled.

"Stupid, fat cow," Meg muttered under her breath, eliciting a small giggle from Christine.

"Come on Meg," she scolded, "that's an insult to the cows."

"Christine," Meg gasped, "that was positively unlike you…I'm proud."

"Meg," Christine said, hitting her friend playfully.

* * *

Erik stared at the music in front of him, the tune was nice and had been going well up to this point. He gave an irritated growl and tried to work it out again, nothing seemed to work though and with a final sigh he cast the paper aside. He had lessons with Christine today and decided to go up early, after all there seemed to be no point in sitting in the lair for another hour. At least above ground he could determine how the theatre was running and whether he would like any changes made. 

Erik decided to go the long way which took him past the stables. He paused when he heard two of the grooms arguing amongst themselves. One of them was new.

"Well I don't care what you all say. I don't care about any stupid ghosts," he snorted.

"I'm serious!" the other insisted, "he's there, everyone knows it. Damn Ghost has caused a lot of trouble round here you know. Breakin' things and the like."

"That's just stupid people messin' up and then blamin' some figment for it. You're all just a bunch of superstitious loonies."

"I don't think many people could mess up that badly. I mean sure, some people do blame the Ghost for their own mistakes, but a lot of the time they really didn't do it."

"Well I think that your Opera Ghost is stupid."

"I wouldn't go saying that," the other warned, "he doesn't like to be insulted and he 's got ears in every wall. Sees and hears everything you know?"

"Oh, so now this ghost is God?"

"In this opera house?" the other man asked, "he might as well be. The manager doesn't do anything without his approval and if he's unhappy, everything seems to go wrong."

The new groom rolled his eyes, "You guys really are all loony."

Erik frowned slightly, he hadn't done anything dramatic in a while, the theatre had been doing too well to disrupt it. Now however he considered doing something, just to convince the new workers that may not believe that he was , in fact, very much a real threat.

By the time he made it to the chapel Christine was already coming in and he had to be careful not to make any noise.

"Hello Christine," he said, "have you been practising?"

"Yes," she said somewhat despondently.

"What is wrong Christine?" Erik asked, frowning slightly at her tone.

"Could we not do our lesson today Angel?" she asked.

"Why would you want to skip our lesson Christine?"

"I just got…umm, I have a bit of a stomach ache," she murmured, "so I don't feel like singing really."

"I see…well then we do not have to sing today Christine."

"Thank you Angel," she said with a weak smile, "I promise that I'll sing next time."

"Would you like to come tomorrow instead?" Erik asked, finding himself somewhat hopeful that the answer would be yes.

"Oh…I guess I could come tomorrow, but I don't really know. The performance is in two days so we're doing a lot of work right now…"

"That is fine Christine, we'll wait until after the performance."

"Thank you Angel. May I go now?"

"Of course Christine, but make sure you practice. And I hope you feel better soon."

"Oh…umm yes, thank you," she said as she left the chapel, "good bye Angel."

"Good bye Christine."

Erik waited until she left to slump against the wall. He was disappointed that he didn't get his lesson with her, he found himself looking forward to the short time with her. In the entire theatre she was the only one who always listened to him. It was not as if he could tell her everything, after all to her he was an Angel. But he enjoyed being able to mentor someone and to be able to see them grow. With a heavy sigh he stood up and started to make his way back to the lair.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry that I haven't updated this in so long, I was just finishing up this chapter and it took longer than I expected. ANyways, I hope you enjoyed it. So read and review. Love you all!**


	31. Part Four: Unseen Genius

Part Four: Unseen Genius

XXXI

Antoinette was shocked from a reverie by shouts from the stables. She frowned slightly and made her way down to see one of the grooms trying to catch a horse as it galloped off and out of the yard. The man pressed a hand to his forehead and cursed under his breath.

"Mon dieu!" he exclaimed, "oh, pardon me Madame."

"It is alright. What happened?" she asked, noticing that all of the stalls were open and none of the horses were in them.

"I have no idea," the man sighed, "some idiot left the stall open, or unlocked or something. Fredrick!"

"Yes sir?" a young man asked, jogging over with halter and lead in hand.

"Who was working last night."

"Me and James I think."

"And did you lock all the stalls like you're supposed to?"

"Of course sir, checked and double checked before we went to bed. I swear, you can ask James the same thing, he'll tell you."

"Fine, go and start getting them back, oh the gendarmes will have a fit over this."

"Geeze!" exclaimed the new groom, "who in their right mind would let out eleven horses. That's dangerous."

"Maybe it was a ghost," Fredrick sneered, throwing the halter and lead at him.

"Still on about that Fred?" he scoffed, starting after the horses, "I tell you, he ain't real."

"He is as real as you or me," Antoinette said sternly, "and if he heard you talking about him he may very well be responsible for this."

"Well we'll know in a bit," the lead groom sighed, "no doubt he'll leave us a note…hurry up boys, get after them!"

Antoinette sighed and left as three more grooms started after the horses. She knew that Erik did not like it when new members of the theatre denied his existence, but why should they? No one saw him, at least nothing more than a glimpse in the darkness and other than his monthly demands no one ever heard from him. He was really nothing more than a ghost, and most people older than ten did not believe in ghosts.

"Ah Madame Giry," Monsieur Lefevre said, coming up beside her, "how are you today."

"I am very well, and you Monsieur?"

"Well, I could be better with all the excitement," he sighed, "but still, I am doing fairly well."

"Hmm, yes, it seems our friend decided to play a bit of a joke on us."

"Yes, well I'm afraid he is the only one who finds it at all amusing. We have to round up eleven horses that are now out in the streets of Paris. Not exactly a safe place for such large animals…how are the rehearsals coming?"

"Well, the performances for the new operas should go off without a hitch."

"Unless of course a certain someone throws a tantrum," Monsieur Lefevre sighed.

"Hmm, I must admit that you are getting better at grovelling."

"Yes, well, it is a talent I would rather not use," he grumbled, "they say that she is the best and the audiences love her. Still, sometimes she is a lot of trouble."

"I must go Monsieur, I have a lesson to teach."

"Hmm, yes, yes, have a good day Madame. If you wouldn't mind stopping by my office later I wish to discuss something with you and Monsieur Reyer."

"Very well, we can come by after rehearsal?"

"Yes, that will be fine. Thank you Madame."

Christine reached down, touched her forehead to her knee and her toe with her hand. Meg giggled and followed her example as they waited for Antoinette to come. Several of the young girls watched them with wide eyes.

"How do you do that?" one little girl asked.

"Practice," Meg replied truthfully, "we've been dancing since we were your age."

"So I'll be able to do that?" the little girl asked excitedly.

"Mm hmm," Christine answer, "and this."

Meg laughed when Christine did a pirouette, spinning three times before coming out of it gracefully. She laughed as well when she saw the little girls all watching her, eyes wide with awe.

"Don't you get dizzy?" one asked.

"No, you're taught how not to get dizzy," Christine replied.

"Its called spotting," Meg explained, "where is my mother?"

"Pardon me," Antoinette said as she entered, "there were some problems in the stable and I had to speak with the manager."

"What kind of trouble maman?" Meg asked.

"The horses were all let out of their stalls," she sighed, "all the grooms are trying to catch them…come now little ones, get in line."

The lesson was short because Antoinette was called away by Monsieur Reyer, leaving Meg and Christine in charge of the little ones. Meg immediately got them to start their stretches and her and Christine watched over them.

"So all the horses were let out," Meg though out loud, "I guess Phantom was upset about something."

"Who?" a little girl asked.

"The Opera Ghost," Christine replied.

"Who's that?" the girl asked.

"He's the one who runs the theatre," Meg said with a small smile.

"Nuh-uh, the manager runs the theatre."

"Everyone thinks that," Meg said, "but in reality the Ghost runs it. Every month Monsieur Lefevre pays him twenty thousand francs to not cause trouble and he gives him Box Five."

"Really?" the girls gasped.

"Yes," Christine replied, "and he decided on the performances and selects the cast for the most part."

"So try and stay on his good side," Meg said, "or you'll probably encounter an accident of some sort."

Christine and Meg left the room when Antoinette returned and made their ways towards the stage. The other dancers were already there, discussing the events of the day. So far the stable incident was the most discussed topic.

"They still haven't caught all of them," Jeanette said knowingly, "Monsieur Lefevre is really worked up over it."

"Can you blame him?" Meg asked, "it was a pretty mean thing to do. I mean , all eleven horses running free in the streets. Its dangerous."

"Well he isn't exactly known for being nice," Jeanette said, "he's always doing things like this. Dropping things, stealing props, tripping people, breaking bones…he's very cruel."

"Come now girls," Monsieur Reyer said as Antoinette walked onto the stage, "we do not have a lot of time today."

"Meeting with the manager," Meg whispered.

Erik fiddled around with a melody before giving up on it all together. He had spent the past hour on it and it did not appear to be going anywhere. He had already enjoyed the chaos he had caused and had spent the rest of the day roaming the theatre before returning to his lair. With an irritable sigh he went into the bedroom and lied down. He might as well get some sleep if he had nothing to do.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry for the short chapter, the next one will hopefully be longer, but I was taking a long time to update and thought it better a short chapter than no chapter at all. Please review because I love to hear from all my readers...yes even you who do not review, come on, don't be shy. I'll even give you a nice reply if you want.**


	32. XXXII

XXXII

"_We never said out love was evergreen, or as unchangin_g…oops," Christine winced as she hit an off note, "I'm sorry Angel."

That's fine Christine," Erik replied, "it is a high note, though it should not be too difficult if you have been practising."

"Why did you have to choose such a difficult song?" Christine asked, "you must know how busy its been in the ballet."

"That is no excuse!" Erik nearly shouted, "now try again."

Christine left the lesson in low spirits, for the past few weeks the songs and his expectations had become increasingly difficult. It seemed that every practice she left feeling tired and with a sense of hopelessness. Each day it was a new aria from a different opera and each day she would stay until she either perfected it or, like today, he let her go.

"Christine!" Meg called, jogging up beside her friend, "hey you look upset, is something wrong?"

"No Meg," Christine replied, pasting a smile on her face, "what was it you wanted?"

"Just to catch up with you," Meg admitted, "and to see if you maybe wanted to go out tonight?"

"Out? Out where?" Christine asked.

"Just out," Meg said, "you do know that there is an entire city outside of these walls don't you?

"I don't know Meg…final rehearsal is tomorrow."

"Aww, please Christine?" Meg pouted, "it'll be a lot of fun."

Christine sighed and finally nodded her head, "Fine, but not too late."

"Agreed, come on! We have to get the others."

The next day at rehearsal Meg and Christine sat off to the side and watched as Carlotta strutted about the stage. It was somewhat amusing, except for the horrible singing that accompanied the strutting.

"She's terrible," Meg groaned.

"I don't know," Christine shrugged, "she could be decent if she had some lessons…a lot of lessons. I mean, she does have a fairly good range."

Meg stared at Christine, "Well If you say so."

"Miss Guidicelli!" Monsieur Reyer exclaimed as Carlotta let out an aggravated grunt, "please."

"This is not working!" she exclaimed, "you are playing too slow."

"This is the proper tempo," Monsieur Reyer sighed.

"Then make it faster!"

"Fine, fine," he muttered, "from the top then?"

"Fine!"

"Do you still stand by what you said?" Meg asked Christine.

"I said she has a good range, not a good attitude…or any sense of timing."

Meg giggled and turned back to watch the stage, "You know what Christine?"

"Hmm?"

"Some day we could be the stars."

"I don't think so," Christine murmured.

"I'm serious Christine."

"Maybe you could Meg," Christine said, "you're an amazing dancer and could easily be prima ballerina, but not me."

"I remember, when we were really small and your papa worked here," Meg mused, "that you used to sing while he played. You'd do it whenever maman and I went over to your apartment. It was a long time ago, but I remember that you had a really nice voice Christine…you could be a singer."

"I don't think so Meg," Christine murmured.

"You used to love to sing Christine," Meg said sadly, "whatever-"

She was cut off when a loud crash and Carlotta's shrill scream ripped through the air. Both Meg and Christine jumped to their feet and looked out at the stage. A large prop had been knocked over and it was now laying right beside Carlotta.

"Is everyone alright?" Monsieur Reyer asked, "for goodness sakes, what happened?"

"I can't tell you Monsieur," a stagehand said as he and another tried to correct the prop, "we just left for a moment, it wasn't one of us…must have been a ghost."

"Well is anyone hurt?" Monsieur Reyer demanded, "as long as no one was hurt."

"Everyone is fine," Antoinette assured him, "just a little shaken."

"What happened?" Monsieur Lefevre demanded as he rushed onto the stage.

"Just an accident Monsieur," Antoinette said, "everyone is fine."

"Accident?" he sighed, "there are no 'accidents' in the Opera Populaire. When was the last time there was a real 'accident?'"

"Monsieur," Antoinette said softly.

"A note?" he asked glumly, "well, he hasn't sent one of those in a while, give it here."

Monsieur Lefevre snatched the note from Antoinette's hand and tore it open. His eyes gleaned over the note, widening slightly before he shoved it into his pocket.

"What did it say?" Monsieur Reyer asked.

"Nothing," he sighed, "please continue with your rehearsal. It is opening night after all…oh Madame Giry if you could meet me in my office after rehearsal is finished."

"Of course Monsieur."

Erik watched as Monsieur Lefevre shoved the note into his pocket without a word to the others regarding its contents. He frowned and turned away from the scene bellow him. It was the first time that he had trouble getting the manager to do as he said.

Antoinette knocked on the door of the manager's office. Within seconds Monsieur Lefevre's voice called her inside. She closed the door quietly and stepped up to the desk. Monsieur Lefevre gave her a weak smile and motioned for her to take a seat.

"Good afternoon Madame Giry," he said as he scanned over some papers.

"It is evening Monsieur Lefevre," she corrected, "and what is it you needed me for?"

"Have you received any notes from our friend lately Madame?" he asked.

"Non, not until today, why?"

"Well he has been sending them to me lately," he said, pulling a small stack of notes out of his desk drawer, "they all request the same thing."

"And what is that?"

"He wants the Opera Populaire to fire La Carlotta," he replied, "he has been asking, or demanding as it may be, for me to do so for the past two months. It wasn't until today that anything bad has happened."

"Then why don't you comply with his demands?"

"You know very well why I don't comply," he said irritably, "let go of La Carlotta? I don't think so Madame, she is the biggest money bringer of this theatre, the most popular singer in the country. Besides, then we would have to hold auditions, and that could take months and cost an extremely large sum of money. Its just not possible, we would have to cancel performances…for once I cannot comply with his demands."

"I see, but you cannot expect him to be happy about this. For years he has had his way, and to have that change…"

"I know, I know…I'm afraid that this may be a hard time for the residents of the theatre…but surely he must know that his demands are insane!"

"Has that ever stopped him before?" Antoinette asked.

"No, I suppose not," he sighed, "I sometimes wish that I was not in this mess you know? I was so excited when I bought this place. And then the troubles began…you will no doubt be wanting to get back to your girls. Thank you for your time, and if you receive any notes-"

"I will be sure to bring them to you," she said, "good night Monsieur Lefevre."

"Good night Madame Giry."

Six months passed in which Monsieur Lefevre found himself using every grovelling skill he had ever learned to his fullest extent. Accidents riddles the stage whenever Carlotta was on it and with every accident came an equally terrible tantrum. Still, rehearsals continued and shows went on.

Erik became increasingly annoyed with the manager during these months and found his skills and imagination being stretched to come up with threats that did not directly harm the diva or any of the other performers. His goal was to frighten them without jeopardizing the performances that they were rehearsing for.

"I will give them a rest," Erik muttered and he scribbled out yet another note, "for a time…"

Meanwhile, as the drama of the theatre continued Erik also found himself being confronted with a new set of problems for himself. His lessons with Christine started to become more frequent, moving from twice a week to four times a week. This was partially due to him and partly due to her. She had wanted to practice more and he was not about to argue, though now he regretted it somewhat.

"Angel do you think that we could not practice today?" she asked one evening.

"Why not?" Erik asked irritably.

"Its just that the masquerade is tonight," Christine said.

"And?" Erik asked, "I don't expect you to be attending."

"No, but I'm a little tired and thought that maybe…just this once."

Erik sighed, it wasn't that he was really angry that she wanted to leave, and it was fair that he give her the night off. But he had been looking forward to the lesson all day and now it was being snatched away from him.

"Perhaps we could make a deal," he said, "you sing a short song for me, anyone you would like and I will let you go early."

"Maybe you could sing a song for me as well?" she said hopefully, "just a short one."

"Very well my dear, but you go first."

Christine nodded her head and chose an old lullaby that her father had taught her. It was a favourite of hers and she would often sing it if her Angel asked her to choose a song. Sometimes she wondered if he ever got tired of hearing it, but he never told her to choose another.

"Your turn," she said.

"Very well…I have the perfect song, giving the day," he said, "_Masquerade, paper faces on parade. Masquerade, hide your face so the world will never find you…_"

Christine hurried from the chapel and up to the dormitory where Meg was waiting. The room was empty except them as most of the girls were at supper,

"Where were you?" Meg demanded, tossing Christine her shoes, "I thought you were lost or something!"

"I'm sorry Meg," Christine said as she slipped on the shoes, "but I'm here now aren't I?"

"Well yes," Meg said, "but that isn't the point Christine, what if everyone had come back?"

"Then we wouldn't have to go through with your foolish plan?"

"Oh stop it," Meg sighed, "and take this."

Christine rolled her eyes and took the small mask from Meg, "You do know that we'll be caught?"

"Not if we're careful," Meg said confidently, "now follow me."

Christine followed her friend through the theatre until they reached the main hall. Music and laughter seemed to fill the room as costumes and masks milled about. Meg put her mask on and motioned for Christine to do the same, then she wandered over to the side wall and stopped there.

"If we stay out of the way no one will notice us," she reasoned, "besides, all we wanted was to see the party."

"If you say so," Christine murmured.

Christine and Meg remained at the side of the room for nearly an hour before Christine got bored. The music was lively, the costumes were amazing and the jewels that the aristocrats were wearing were more amazing still, but it wasn't all that interesting.

"Can we go yet?" she asked, suppressing a yawn.

"If you insist," Meg sighed.

"I do," she said.

"Excuse me Mademoiselle?"

Christine and Meg turned back to see a young man smiling at them from beneath a small black mask. Meg and Christine looked at each other and then back at the young man. His smile faltered slightly.

"I don't mean to be rude," Meg said, "but which one of us were you speaking to."

He blushed slightly and motioned to Christine, "I was wondering if I could perhaps have a dance?"

"Oh…well I-uh," Christine murmured.

"Go on," Meg urged, elbowing her friend in the side.

"Yes," Christine replied, taking the man's offered hand.

Meg and Christine hurried back up to the dormitory, trying not to giggle too loudly. Several of the girls groaned softly and murmured when they entered and quickly changed and slipped into bed.

The next morning during rehearsal Monsieur Lefevre came on the stage followed by two other men. Antoinette and Monsieur Reyer both sighed and rolled their eyes as they stopped and Monsieur Lefevre started to go over the different aspects of the theatre.

"Monsieur Lefevre!" Monsieur Reyer exclaimed, "we are in the middle of a rehearsal."

"Oh, well pardon me," Monsieur Lefevre said, "I was just showing our new patron the theatre."

"Our new Patron?" Antoinette asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Yes, Monsieur Duchamp," he replied, "Monsieur I would like you to meet Monsieur Reyer and out ballet mistress Madame Giry. Madame et Monsieur, this is Fredric Duchamp and his son Albert."

"That's him!" Meg gasped.

"Who's who?" Christine asked, turning to see who her friend was looking at.

"That's the boy you danced with at the party."

"What?" Christine gasped, "no, it can't be."

"It is," Meg teased, "you danced with the new patron's son…and he's more handsome without the mask."

Christine gave a low moan and shook her head, "Come on Meg, we have to finish stretching."

"Fine, but if I were you I'd try to catch his attention…I think he liked you"

"Meg!" Christine exclaimed, "besides…I'm only thirteen."

Meg shrugged, "He looks like he's only, what, sixteen?"

Christine rolled her eyes and walked across the stage to where the other girls were stretching. Meg sighed and followed her.

* * *

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed the chapter, please read and review, we're entering the home stretch my friends! **


	33. XXXIII

XXXIII

Erik kicked his heels rhythmically against the wall, waiting was truly boring and he knew that he would never like it. Soon though the sounds of footsteps and the creaking of the door opening brought a small smile to his face and he stepped forward to look into the chapel.

"Angel?"

"I am here my dear, but you are late."

"Meg and I had to help with something, Lucy sprained her ankle and we had to get ice and help her to the dormitory."

"What a shame, I do hope she will be alright," he said thoughtfully, she was one of the better dancers.

"Madame, says that she will be fine," Christine assured him, "that it wasn't that bad and with ice and some rest she would be able to dance within a week or so."

"Well that is good news," he said, "is there anything else new in the theatre?"

"We have a new patron," she replied happily.

"Oh?" he asked, he knew the one, he had a son that liked to watch the rehearsals.

"Mmm hmm, and he has a son," she added a bit sheepishly.

"Is that so?" Erik asked, he did not like the way she had said that.

"Yes…he's about sixteen and his name is Albert."

"Albert?"

"Yes…I actually met him before, at the Masquerade on New Years," she admitted, "Meg and I went, though we weren't supposed to."

"Did you now?" he asked, "and you met him there?"

"Yes, he asked me to dance," she said dreamily, "he's handsome too. Meg keeps teasing me, saying that he likes me…and that I like him."

"And do you?" Erik demanded.

"Well…I do a little bit Angel," she admitted.

Erik could feel his temper flare and it took all of his self control not to yell at her, "I see," he said through gritted teeth.

"Is something the matter?" she asked nervously, "you sound upset Angel."

"I do not want you to see this boy again," he stated simply, "you will not talk to him, or any other young men. Also, from now on you will not leave the theatre after dark…ever!"

"Angel, why are you so upset?" she asked, biting her finger nervously, "was it something I said?"

"These rules are to keep you safe my dear. The streets are dangerous at night."

"But why can't I speak with Albert…or anyone else?"

"Because they will distract you from your singing Christine, and we do not want that. If you break any of these rules I will not come to you any more, do you understand?"

"Yes," she said quietly, "may I go now Angel?"

"We have not had our lesson Christine."

"I don't feel very well," she murmured, "I would like to go to supper and then bed."

"Very well then," he replied, "good night Christine."

"Yeah…sure."

* * *

Antoinette was walking back to her small apartment in the theatre when she noticed the shadow looming behind her. With a roll of her eyes she turned to see Erik. 

"So you have taken to stalking people now?" she asked.

"Come now Madame," he said silkily, "I would hardly call it stalking. I just happened to see you and decided to say hello."

"Really?"

"Yes, we haven't spoken in so long you know?"

"And who's fault is that?" Antoinette asked, folding her arms crossly, "perhaps if you spent less time tormenting, Carlotta and Monsieur Lefevre, we could have talked."

"I have left them alone for some time now," he replied sharply.

"Except for the constant threatening letters," Antoinette said, "sometimes I do not understand you Erik. You know that it is difficult to find a new singer and La Carlotta brings a lot of people to this theatre. The public adores her for some reason."

"I despise her," Erik replied, "she is an absolutely revolting individual."

"Kind of like you are being?" Antoinette asked.

"What do you mean by that?" Erik growled.

"Figure it out," Antoinette snapped, "you are a genius, non?"

Erik snorted, "You enjoy trying my patience don't you?"

"At times," Antoinette admitted.

"I knew it," Erik muttered.

"So, why did you really come to talk?"

"Because I was bored," Erik said, "I was wandering the empty halls of my theatre and saw you and decided that, since I obviously have nothing better to do, I would torment you."

"Good night, Erik," Antoinette said firmly, "unlike you I have work to do in the morning."

Erik snorted, he did have work to do in the morning, he just found that he didn't need as much sleep to do his jobs. After all, it was much easier to write threatening letters than to teach a hundred little dancers.

* * *

Med was perplexed by her friend's new attitude. Where before she would simply moan and protest a little about going out she would always end up going in the end. Now, however, she downright refused to leave the theatre if the sun was about to set. 

"It'll be fine Christine," Meg insisted, "only for an hour or so. Janice is going and Gabriel said he'd go also."

"No," Christine said, "not tonight Meg…I don't feel very well."

"Now you're lying," Meg snapped, "you feel fine, you were dancing earlier and you were fine at supper."

"Just not tonight Meg, maybe next time, alright?"

Meg frowned at her for a minute before sighing, "Fine…but you're missing all the fun."

"I know, Meg," Christine sighed, "maybe next time we have the day off?"

Meg nodded, "Bye, cover for us if maman asks."

"Of course."

Once Meg was gone Christine flopped onto her bed and rested her chin on the pillow. It really didn't seem fair that she wasn't allowed out at night. She knew that it was dangerous to be out alone at night, or even during the day. But she was never alone, Meg, or someone else, was always there. Still, she wouldn't go against her Angel's wishes, she didn't know what she would do without his guidance.

"You didn't go with Meg and the others?" a younger dancer asked.

"No," Christine said, sitting up and looking at the young girl.

"Why not?" she asked.

Christine shrugged, "Why didn't you go?"

"I wasn't invited. I'm new to the corps, this will be my first performance…no one really cares about the new dancers."

"Well good luck," Christine said.

"I'm nervous," she continued, "I mean, there will be so many people out there."

"It isn't that scary," Christine murmured, "in fact it isn't frightening at all…don't be nervous."

"Really?" she asked.

"Really," Christine assured her.

The girl smiled at her, "Thanks…do you think the performance will go well?"

"I don't know…maybe, maybe not . It really depends on what the Phantom of the Opera thinks."

"The Opera Ghost, you mean?"

"Yes, if that's what you want to call him."

"Christine," Antoinette asked, poking her head into the dormitory.

"Oui, Madame?" Christine asked.

"Do you know where Meg and the others are?" she asked.

"I'm sorry, I don't," Christine replied, "I was in the chapel and they weren't here when I got back."

"Very well then, good night my dear."

"Good night."

The other girl frowned as the door closed and turned to look at Christine again, "But you do know where they are."

"No I don't," Christine said.

"You do, you were going to go."

"No I wasn't," Christine said, "I never intended to go. Besides, I don't know where they are, they could be anywhere in the city. Paris is very big…you wouldn't understand, we're not supposed to go out at night and they would get in a lot of trouble if she knew where they were."

* * *

At first it was easy to excuse herself from the little trips out into the city, after all rehearsals could be very tiring near the opening night. But once the theatre life became a little less hectic it was more difficult. 

"Just one night," Meg said, "please Christine, its only for a little while. We're just going to the shops nearby. Its not even dark out yet and it won't be for an hour."

"Well…as long as we're back before dark I guess it would be alright," Christine reasoned aloud.

"That's easy," meg said happily, "we'll just go to our favourite shop and then come right back."

"Alright," Christine nodded, "lets hurry then."

Meg giggled and the two hurried out of the dormitory, following their once regular path to exit the theatre. Christine had to admit, it felt good to be out of the place that seemed to have become a prison, she only hoped that her Angel wouldn't be angry. But he couldn't be, it wasn't dark out and she wasn't with any boys, just Meg.

* * *

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed the chapter, I know it was a little short and I'm sorry for that, but it was either that or have it go on forever, and that would never do. The next chapter should be longer and be up quicker.**


	34. XXXIV

**XXXIV**

Meg and Christine sprinted back into the theatre seemingly just as the sun set. Christine couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief. So far she had not broken her Angel's rule, though her and Meg had surely come close on many occasions, but he didn't seem to mind. Or maybe he simply didn't know, though that seemed strange, he always seemed to know everything about what was going on.

"Come on, Christine," Meg said, "we'll miss supper."

"You go, I'm not very hungry."

Meg shrugged her shoulders and left Christine in the hall. Once she was gone Christine made her way to the chapel. She was a bit early and lit a candle for her father while she waited for her Angel to come.

"Good evening Christine."

"Angel?" she asked, smiling as she looked towards the ceiling.

"You were out today, weren't you, Christine?" he asked icily.

"Yes…this afternoon, with Meg," she replied, "but we were back before dark."

Christine waited nervously when there was no reply for what seemed like ages, "Run through your scales."

"Of course," she murmured, and began to run through her scales.

* * *

Erik couldn't understand himself why he was being so hard on Christine. He knew, though he would deny it, that it was cruel to impart such harsh rules, not to mention the punishment for not obeying. Truthfully he wouldn't be able to stay away for long.

She never really disobeyed him, though he knew that her and Meg would go out any afternoon possible. Though she did always come back before it got dark, therefore not directly disobeying him. But the first time she came close he made sure that she knew his anger. It only lasted for a few lessons, by then she seemed upset enough that she would not dare go out anytime near dark again.

Christine, however, was the least of his problems, La Carlotta was now grating on his nerves. Rehearsals were painful enough to watch, and no doubt to go through, without that woman throwing a fit every five minutes. And Monsieur Lefevre was finally proving that he did in fact have a spine and continued to ignore his demands to fire the singer.

Finally, after a horrible rehearsal, Erik had had enough and kicked over a rather large prop, causing it to land right beside the diva. She of course gave a shrill cry and started to complain loudly. Erik had to bite his tongue as not to shout, 'stop that insufferable racket!'

"Trouble in paradise?" Antoinette asked, causing him to turn his head.

"How did you find me Madame?" he asked.

"Dark night, cold," she said, "there was no doubt that you would be up on the roof trying to catch your death."

"Amusing, Madame, very amusing."

"That was quite the show you put on today," she continued, "you have not nearly killed anyone in ages."

"It was a stupid prop," he grumbled, "I was hardly trying to kill her…I have very good aim."

"Say what you will, but a few inches to the left…"

"Yes, yes…"

"Hmm, so you are in a bad mood this evening," Madame commented, "I would have thought that kicking over heavy props and terrifying the chorus would have released some of that pent up frustration."

"If you do not mind, Madame, I came up here for some quiet."

"Hmm, then thee is something else bothering you. Other than out prima donna."

"There is nothing bothering me," Erik sighed, "other then the fact that your insufferable manager has finally decided to show some backbone."

"Is that all?"

"That is all," he snapped.

Antoinette couldn't help but chuckle, "Very well then."

"Is something funny?" he demanded.

"Oh no," she replied, stifling another laugh, "you are just being very childish. You do know that Monsieur Lefevre owns the theatre, don't you?"

Erik rolled his eyes and sighed, "Yes, I do know that."

"Then perhaps you should leave some decisions up to him," she suggested, "after all if the theatre goes under he loses everything."

"And I don't?"

"You would still have a fortune hidden away and a place to live. Unless of course the building collapses, which is doubtful."

Erik couldn't help but give a wry laugh, "I suppose so…it is cold out."

"Oui, it is November," Antoinette agreed, "so why don't we go inside?"

"You may do so if you wish," he said, "but I think I will enjoy the view for a while longer…Paris is really very beautiful at night."

* * *

Time in the theatre did not seem to conform to the same rules as the outside world. It seemed to be carried out at a faster pace during the regular season and then slow to a near stop off season or on holidays. It was on one of these holidays that Meg and Christine sat listening to the orchestra practise.

"I never noticed how boring Christmas is," Meg murmured.

"I guess when we were younger we were all excited about presents and going out for the day and mass…mass!"

"What about it?" Meg asked.

"Its at midnight," Christine replied.

"Yes, it always has been. Every Christmas eve since I can remember," Meg replied.

"I know but…" she trailed off.

"But what Christine?" Meg asked, "is something wrong?"

"No Meg," Christine said, reasoning that he wouldn't be angry if she went to mass. After all, he was an angel, "lets go do something more interesting."

* * *

Erik drummed his fingers rhythmically on the edge of the box. Holidays had to be some of the most boring moments in the opera house. Many people went home to visit family, or went out with friends for the days. That left almost no one in the theatre except the occasional ballet rat and the orchestra.

"I should get something to eat," he thought aloud, "otherwise I will starve to death…"

He remained seated for several more moments before standing up and straightening his clothes. Food had been the original reason to surface. However he had heard the orchestra playing and was interested in hearing them without the shrieks of Carlotta. It turned out that he would be having a lot of replacements showing up at the opera soon.

So, after going to the kitchen and procuring all that he saw necessary, he made his way back down to his lair. Once there he took out a small piece of paper and an envelope then, finding his pen, he started to write a note to Monsieur Lefevre, detailing a few changes that were simply necessary.

* * *

"This is outrageous!" Monsieur Reyer exclaimed, waving the small note, "he is asking me to replace over half of my orchestra."

"It would seem that way," Monsieur Lefevre replied dismally, "but there isn't much we can do about it."

"Nothing we can do?" Monsieur Reyer sputtered, "refuse him. You've done so with La Carlotta and-"

"And look where it has gotten us," Monsieur Lefevre interrupted, "there have been more accidents in rehearsal than actual rehearsing. Props have been broken, or stolen, and then there is the fact that he has almost killed the woman a few hundred times."

"Monsieur Lefevre, I beg of you, do not make me do this."

"I'm afraid, Monsieur, that you will have to start searching for some new musicians as the ones in question have just been fired…they will receive notice of this and have two weeks to leave the theatre."

"Two weeks? Rehearsals start again in three weeks. How am I to find anyone fast enough?"

"I trust in your abilities…and maybe the Ghost will have some suggestions, non?"

* * *

**A/N: Ugh, sorry for not updating sooner, and for the fairly short chapter, but school has been hectic to say the least. Huge English summative, 15 minute long oral essay to write and prepare for. Not to mention the chemistry...well hope you enjoyed the chapter and please review.**


	35. XXXV

XXXV

Erik yawned as he scribbled a short note on a piece of paper. He had been up for nearly two days straight, something that he was quite used to, if he were to be composing. However for the past two days he had just been unable to sleep, no matter how tired he felt. Of course the insomnia had led to composing, but he didn't deem any of the work good.

He yawned again and sighed the note with the familiar initials, then he slipped it into the envelope and grabbed his cloak. If he was going to be awake he might as well deliver the note. And while above ground getting something to eat couldn't hurt, and he could also check on the theatre and maybe even Christine while he was at it.

He pushed the boat along and climbed up through all of the cellars. He didn't know exactly where Monsieur Lefevre would be, but he figured he would be near his office. He turned and started on his way when he heard the man's voice in the hall, he was talking with Antoinette.

"Lucky me," he murmured and dropped the envelope. He smirked when it hit the man in the head.

Stifling another yawn he decided that he would check on the theatre another day. Trying to get some sleep seemed like a wiser course of action. Of course he would get something to eat first, seeing as he was near the kitchens.

* * *

Antoinette had to suppress a laugh when the note hit the manager on the head. He, however, did not find it nearly as amusing. He snatched the note from the floor and opened the envelope.

"Well?" Antoinette asked.

"It seems that our ghost has a sense of humour," He chuckled, "I would like to wish you all a very merry Christmas and will be eagerly awaiting my own gift of twenty thousand francs…you are over due on your payment. I remain, your obedient servant, O.G."

"Over due?" Antoinette asked.

"Unfortunately. However it is hardly my fault, he has not asked for the money and I had no want to send it to him. If he ever forgot it would be a blessing."

"Has he ever forgotten?" Antoinette asked.

"Not in all the years that I have been here…are you going to the service tonight?"

"Oui, Monsieur. Are you?"

"I was thinking of it. But there is still much to do, it is Christmas and that means New Years approaches. New Years means the Bal Masque, and that means extensive planning and the sending of many invitations."

"Take a break," Antoinette advised, "working so hard will take a toll on your health."

"No," he retorted, "the ghost and La Carlotta, will take a toll on my health. Good day Madame."

Antoinette sighed and glanced up, but there was already no sign of Erik. She gave another small laugh and made her way to the ballet dormitories to find Meg and Christine. She was taking them to midnight mass tonight and had to make sure that they were getting ready. She passed Christine going the other way and stopped her.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"I was just going to the chapel," Christine replied, "to pray for my father."

"You should be getting ready to go to mass."

"It will only take a moment, Madame."

"Very well then, run along, but be quick."

* * *

Christine gave a small curtsey and dashed off towards the chapel. The room was empty, as usual and she quickly lit a candle for her father and knelt to pray. She was done within a few minutes and called out quietly to see if her Angel was there. She received no reply.

She gave a disgruntled sigh and left. She had been hoping to see if it would be alright to go to mass. But she reassured herself again. She wasn't alone, she would be with Madame Giry and Meg. Not only that but it was church, not just wandering the streets and it was for Christmas, she had done it every year before now.

So, with renewed confidence, Christine went back up to the dormitory and found her cloak and good shoes. Then her and Meg went down to the stable, giggling and talking the entire time. Antoinette was already waiting with one of the coaches.

"Hurry up," she urged as the girls climbed in and sat down.

They spread a blanket over their laps and the coach lurched forward into the snowy night. And as they travelled away from the large theatre nobody noticed the shadow on the roof, watching the snow fall on the city bellow.

* * *

**A/N: (gasp) An update! Yes I have finally updated, and would like to apologize most profoundly for the long wait. But alas, exams are nearing and time is precious for studying for crazy chemistry and biology. So, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, even though it was a little short, and will leave a review because they make me happy.**


	36. XXXVI

XXXVI

Erik hummed to himself, Christmases were always a particularly boring time of the year for him. Most people left the theatre to visit family. Even Christine was out with Antoinette and little Giry. He didn't really mind though, he had never really enjoyed Christmas after all.

So, having nothing better to do he pulled out a piece of paper and began to sketch. It started off with some set designs for a performance he wanted the theatre to put on, then they moved to costumes and, after a while, he found himself sketching Christine.

She was beautiful, he had to admit it. She always had been, he supposed. Beautiful curly hair, large innocent eyes. She had certainly been an adorable child, and somehow, before he had even realized it, she had grown into a lovely young woman.

He sighed and pinned up the sketch along with others he had done before. There was even one of her as a child, praying in the chapel. The scene had just been too peaceful and serene not to record on paper.

* * *

"Remember when we went skating on Christmas?" Meg asked, sipping a cup of hot chocolate.

"Yes, what about it?" Christine replied.

"Well, I think I like this better," Meg said, "its not nearly as cold."

"Yeah…we can still feel our toes," Christine said with a small smile.

"I'm glad you two are enjoying ourselves," Antoinette said, "remember, I said you could each get something small in one of the shops."

"Thank you, maman," Meg beamed.

"Yes, thank you , Madame," Christine agreed, "its really very kind of you."

"Hmm, it is Christmas," she reasoned, "now I have something to go and do, so you may go out just stay together and we will meet here in an hour," Antoinette said sternly, "you have your money."

"Thank you," they said in unison.

"Have fun girls."

Antoinette left them in the small café and went out to search through the shops herself. She had been meaning to check the prices on Pointe shoes and go to the fabric shop to look at some samples for new costumes. It wasn't really necessary, but she had no will to go shopping with the two girls. She knew that they would have to look at everything, after all they were fourteen.

"Christine," Meg said, staring at a small necklace in the window of a jeweller, "isn't it beautiful?"

"Meg, we don't have nearly enough money for any jewellery," Christine sighed.

"I never said we did, but at least look at it."

Christine sighed and looked in the window, "Yes, it is very pretty."

"Don't you wish that we had enough money to buy such beautiful things?" Meg sighed.

"We'd have to be rich, Meg."

"So? I wish we were rich…like an empress. Oh, Christine, wouldn't it be wonderful to be an empress?"

"I suppose so…but in the mean time why don't we go look in the chocolate shop. We can actually afford some of the things in there."

"Maman hates it when we buy sweets," Meg sighed.

"Yes well, she doesn't have to know…we'll just buy some small things and then buy a hair ribbon or something…that way it doesn't look like we've gotten any sweets."

"Christine!" Meg exclaimed, smiling widely, "that is positively sneaky."

"You taught me that."

"Yes, and you remembered…oh I am so proud of my best friend," Meg said, wiping away a fake tear and putting her arm around Christine's neck.

Christine laughed and they started to walk towards the chocolate shop. It was always a favourite place for them to visit and the sweet smell of chocolate and other sweets greeted them as the stepped inside. An elderly man looked up from what he was doing and walked over to the counter, smiling warmly at them.

"And how may I help you two beautiful ladies today?" he asked.

"Umm…could we have two of those truffles?" Christine asked, pointing at the ones she meant.

"Actually three," Meg corrected.

"Of course," he said, picking out three of them and putting them in a small box.

"Actually, could you put one of them in a separate box?" Meg asked, "if it isn't too much trouble."

"No trouble at all little Miss," he replied.

"Thank you," Meg said, handing him the appropriate amount of money, "I appreciate very much, Monsieur."

"Merci, and have a good day."

"You as well," Christine said as they stepped back onto the streets.

"Here you are," Meg said, handing Christine one of the truffles.

"Why three?" Christine asked, taking it.

"What?"

"Why did you get us three, and wrap one separately?"

"I was thinking that we could use one as a gift," Meg said, giving Christine a wry smile.

"A gift for who?" Christine asked.

"I was thinking…the Phantom."

"What?" Christine gasped.

"Aww come on, don't you remember how we used to look for him?" Meg badgered, "I recon that a ghost would get awfully lonely on Christmas, and I bet he never gets gifts. We'll just leave it in his box and see what happens."

"Meg, we shouldn't…we'll get in trouble."

"No one will ever find out," Meg said, "now lets go and get some hair ribbons."

"Fine…hey wait up!"

Once back at the theatre Meg and Christine made there way to the auditorium. They were very careful to check that no one was around as they climbed up to Box Five and slipped inside. It was, as always, spotless and they made there way to the little shelf at the back.

"I'm not sure about this," Christine said nervously.

"Don't worry," Meg said, setting the little box on the shelf, "nothing bad will happen…now lets go before someone find us here."

"Meg!" Christine said, chasing after her friend.

"Hurry up Christine," Meg called, "we'll check back tomorrow."

* * *

Erik sighed and meandered through the empty halls of the opera house. He went up to his box to look over the auditorium. It would be empty at the moment and therefore easier to notice anything worth mentioning to Monsieur Lefevre.

"Hmm," he said, frowning slightly as he noticed something on the shelf of his box, "what do we have here?"

He picked up the small box and opened it to reveal the small chocolate with a slip of paper placed over it. He raised his eyebrow and picked up the paper and unfolding it. A small smile flickered across his lips and he gave a small laugh.

"Joyeux Noël Monsieur le Phantom. Here is a little gift for you," he muttered, "well, how thoughtful."

He picked up the small chocolate and looked at it. He had a feeling that it was a gift from Antoinette's daughter and Christine. After all, those two had always been snooping through the cellars looking for him. Still, it was a nice thought and he took a tentative bite of it before deciding that there was nothing wrong with it and popping the rest of it into his mouth.

"Hurry up Christine…lets see if its gone."

Erik turned his head at the sound of the voices and swore under his breath. Just his luck, the culprits returning to the scene of the crime. He quickly whirled around and hit behind the many velvet hangings in the box. Watching as the two girls entered the box.

"Its gone," Meg said happily, "do you think he liked it?"

"I don't know, Meg. It might have been taken by one of the cleaning ladies."

"Oh come on, Christine, they aren't even here today," Meg argued.

"Fine…I guess he liked it then."

Erik watched them through the curtains, Christine looked bored, as if she really wanted to be somewhere else. He figured she did, he figured that she would rather be in the chapel. After all, they had a lesson tonight. But little Giry seemed absolutely thrilled that the little chocolate box was gone and seemed to be gloating about it.

"Of course he did," she said confidently, "after all, who doesn't like chocolate?"

"Jean doesn't like it," Christine muttered, "and neither does James."

"Oh…"

Erik smiled to himself and cleared his throat quietly. This would be the perfect opportunity to test his skill as a ventriloquist again. Of course he already knew he was good, but it was fun to see just how good.

"I'm sure he liked it though," Christine said hurriedly.

"Of course I did," Erik whispered, throwing his voice so that it seemed to be right over their shoulders.

Meg gave a small scream and whirled around, "What?"

"It was very thoughtful of you to get me a present," Erik continued, weaving his voice around them, "I have not been given a gift in a very long time. Merci."

"You-you're welcome," Meg squeaked, still looking for the source of the voice. Meanwhile Christine was standing still, mouth open slightly and eyes wide.

"You should not be here though," Erik said, adding an icy edge o his voice, "perhaps it would be wise to return to the dormitory."

Meg nodded her head quickly and grabbed Christine's arm before dashing from the box. Erik chuckled lightly and shook his head. He would wait a good hour before leaving the box. Just to make sure they were not waiting for him on the other side. Though, by the looks on their faces, he didn't expect them to ever return.

* * *

"The-the Ghost," Meg gasped, "he-he just…and we were…he talked."

"Yes," Christine replied , blinking, "and…he liked the chocolate."

Meg turned to look and her and a small smile spread across her lips, "Yeah, I guess he did, "she giggled, "but lets not go back into his box."

"Ever again," Christine agreed, "yeah…oh, if Madame knew we would be in so much trouble."

Meg just nodded her head and flopped back on her bed, "I can't wait to tell this story to the others…do you think they'll believe us?"

"Nope," Christine sighed, "I have to go Meg, I'll be back in a bit."

"Alright. I'll be sleeping right here."

Christine gave a small laugh and left the dormitory, turning in the direction of the chapel. She was looking forward to her lesson, but then again she always looked forward to them. Though she seemed to be enjoying them more as of late and upon entering the chapel all she wanted was to hear the sound of her Angel's voice.

"Angel?"

"I am here, Christine," he replied.

She smiled, "Merry Christmas…I'm sorry I didn't come to visit you."

"That is alright, Christine, you had other things to do…have you been practising?"

"Of course," she replied, "you…aren't angry?"

"Why would I be angry?"

"I don't know, I just thought…"

"Because you were out after dark?" he asked silkily, "no, you were going to mass with friends. I would never be angry for anything like that."

"That's good to know…what do you want me to sing today?"

"Perhaps a Christmas carol," he suggested, "of your choice."

"Oh…alright."

"But first, do not forget to warm up."

"Of course not," Christine smiled and began running though her scales. It felt good to be singing for someone again.

* * *

**A/N: Well I hope you enjoyed teh chapter...I'm getting slow with updates aren't I? Well, never the less, I am looking foward to some reviews, because I love them so much!**


	37. XXXVII

XXXVII

Antoinette made her way down to the chapel. The masquerade was about to start, guests were already arriving, but she wanted a bit of peace before going out into the crowds. Of course peace was not what met her. As she approached the door she heard voices, something strange for the chapel.

She approached slowly, and listened carefully. It was Erik's voice and then the voice of Christine responding to it. Erik sang something, and she couldn't help but smile, he really did seem to have the voice of an angel at times. Then, to her surprise, Christine sang the same few bars before stopping and asking something.

"Was that good?"

"Yes, my dear, it was beautiful."

"May I go now Angel? The masquerade is tonight and we are supposed to be in bed early."

"Very well, my dear. You may go, good night."

"Good night, Angel…"

Antoinette quickly climbed back up the stairs and waited until she heard the footsteps of Christine to go back down. Christine stopped and said hello before quickly dashing off to the dormitory. Antoinette shook her head. So, Erik was teaching the girl, it was strange for sure. But perhaps it was good that he had contact with someone else in the theatre…but something still bothered her, perhaps it was how as she entered Erik was no where in site, or maybe it was that Christine had called him 'angel'.

"Ah, good evening, Madame," his voice came clearly, almost cheerfully, "should you not be up enjoying the festivities?"

"I am going in a few minutes, are you?"

"Hmm, no I do not believe so. After all, I have no costume."

"It seems to me that what you normally wear would be appropriate," Antoinette commented.

"How dull," Erik replied, "I would at least need a different mask, and I do not have one at the moment. Therefore I will not be going. Though I do hope you enjoy your time. Good night, Madame."

* * *

Over the next few weeks there were no notes from the resident ghost and it left most everyone relieved, though they all knew that it would not last. It had happened before, more than once, and every time he would come back, usually in a worse mood than when he had left. Still, the calm in the eye of the storm was nice and provided for fairly uneventful rehearsals. 

"She's horrible," one dancer complained, "she stepped on my foot and blamed me…I was on my mark!"

"Yeah," another agreed, "one she pushed me off Pointe…I almost twisted my ankle."

"Same, except I did, and I was lucky it wasn't broken!"

Antoinette sighed, "I know, my dears, but there is nothing I can do."

"Monsieur Lefevre could fire her, that's what the ghost wants," someone said.

"He cannot do that, we have no second soprano and it would take too long and cost too much to find one," Antoinette explained, "besides, she has her following, the audience loves her."

"They have poor taste then," Meg grumbled.

Antoinette sighed, "Perhaps…but they are the ones who provide our jobs and salaries. Now go and stretch, rehearsals are finished for today."

Antoinette watched as the dancers hurried off and made her way to the chapel. It was a good place for a bit of peace and quiet after a hectic day. Today was no different, except the voice that greeted her when she entered.

"Coming out?" she asked, "you know that I do not like talking to walls."

"Really, Madame?" he asked, slipping from the shadows, "why ever not? I find that they listen better than most people."

"Perhaps, but most people who talk to walls are insane. So, you have been composing again?" she asked.

"Why would you think that?"

"You have not been in contact with the theatre in quite some time, that usually happens when you are composing."

"Ah, I see. Am I that predictable?"

"Hmm, you obsess over things, and that makes you predictable."

"I do not obsess over things," he argued.

"Non?" Antoinette asked, raising her eyebrows, "you always have. You spend hours performing one task. You do not eat or sleep when working on something. You are headstrong, Erik, you put your mind to something and you do not stop until you have achieved it."

"Yes, well I suppose that could be considered unfortunate for certain people."

"Hmm, perhaps. So, I take it that you completed whatever you were working on."

"You would be correct…would you care to share how you came to that conclusion?"

"There have been no threatening letters, disasters or mysterious disappearances."

"That was once…and I returned it."

"After the performance!"

"So, did you come down here for a reason, Madame, or were you simply hoping that I would be here so you could berate me about my habits?"

"I came for some peace and quiet."

"Your apartment was not quiet?"

"Non, not with little dancers scampering back and forward."

"They scamper near your room?"

"Oui, until curfew."

"Well then, I shall leave you in peace," He said with a mock bow, "au revoir, Madame."

"Au revoir."

* * *

Christine waited patiently as Meg fiddled with he hair. Her friend had agreed to try and brad it. A feat that was more difficult said than done. But still she persisted, brush in hand. 

"Meg, that hurts," Christine complained.

"Sorry, but its hard…your hair is difficult."

"I told you," Christine sighed, "but you wouldn't listen."

"Wait…I've almost got it…"

"Ouch!"

"There! Now just give me a minute and you'll be all set."

"This is foolish, what's the point in braiding my hair?" Christine asked, "if anything it will just make it more wavy, and I don't need that."

"It will look pretty," Meg said as she tied off the end of the braid, "and that should be reason enough. Not to mention it will keep your hair out of your face in rehearsal."

"I could have just tied it back then," Christine sighed, standing up and stretching.

"Fine, don't thank me. But it really does look good. Just look in the mirror!"

Christine sighed and walked over to the mirror and looked at herself. She had to admit, it wasn't horrible, though she really didn't like it all that much, "I suppose it looks alright."

"You look wonderful," Meg said, bouncing over and putting her hands on her friend's shoulders, "now get your shoes or we'll be late!"

The two girls rushed down to the stage and quickly joined the group that was already there. They were late again, but Antoinette was too busy talking to with Monsieur Lefevre to notice them.

Rehearsal went just as expected, horribly, but that didn't deter them anymore. After all, they all went horribly with Carlotta complaining about one thing or another. The dancing went off without a hitch, the instruments were all tuned and everyone knew the music from top to bottom. Overall they seemed completely ready for the upcoming performance.

"So, do you think we'll do good tonight?" Meg asked.

"I think we'll get through it," Christine said, "everything seems to be going well…well, for rehearsal."

"Why do you follow me?" Carlotta asked, shoving past the two girls, "stopa following me. I can go by myself, go, go!"

"Yeah," Meg agreed, "at least she can get it together for the performances…if only she could sing."

"Meg," Christine scolded, "that's not very nice."

"No, I guess not…come on, let's go down to the stables. We could see the new foal."

"Alright."

* * *

Erik tied his cravat and pulled on his jacket. Performance night meant a night to go above ground to critique the operas talents. This would be the first performance of the year, so of course he would be a bit lenient, they had all come back from visiting families and the like. Therefore the performers would have been out of practise before going into the four weeks of rehearsals. 

"This should be excruciatingly painful," he muttered, pulling on his cloak and getting into the boat.

To his surprise the performance was not nearly as bad as he had thought it would be. The opera was doing a comedy, which could explain it. After all, a comedy did not need to be as perfectly performed as a tragedy. True, there were a few sour notes, but that was expected in any performance. A dancer fell out of step, someone was tripped by Carlotta and one of the musicians broke a string on their violin, but overall nothing went horribly askew.

Once the performance ended he hurriedly left his box and made his way to the closest passageway. It was always a risk to stay until the end, there was the risk of being seen. Not that any of the patrons were recognize him, but they might try and converse, and he truly did not want that.

Once back in his lair he pulled out a fresh piece of paper and began to write his note to the manager. He found it best to do this when the performance was fresh in his mind. That way he still had all of the mistakes fresh in his mind.

* * *

"Well, this isn't so bad," Monsieur Lefevre sighed, "but then again he has always been a bit…friendlier, yes, friendlier on the first performance after the holidays." 

"Hmm, had he been?" Antoinette asked.

"Yes, its hard to believe, but it is true. He seems to understand that nobody ever practises over the break."

"How kind of him, but he surely has something unkind to say?"

"He requests his salary, he suggests, which means demands, that we hire a new flautist and he once again demands the firing of La Carlotta," he sighed, "well, we can at least give him two of the things he wants, no?"

"Oui…for now."

"I know that you disagree with my refusal to let Carlotta go, but it is simply impossible."

"I understand," Antoinette sighed, "but one day he will simply not take no for an answer. Then what will you do?"

"When that day comes I have a feeling that he will tell me exactly what to do," he muttered, "he will probably have a soprano ready to replace her, since both you an I know that when he does get fed up there will be no more La Carlotta…at all!"

"No, I don't suppose there will be," she agreed, "I must go now. I have to teach the little ones now."

"Good day, Madame."

"Oui, bonjour."

* * *

"Guess what I heard?" Meg asked In a sing-song voice. 

"What?" Christine asked.

"You know Monsieur Piangi?" she asked.

"Of course," James replied, "he's only the lead tenor."

"Yes, Meg, we all know him," Christine agreed, "what about him?"

"Well, I hear that him and Mademoiselle Guidicelli are…having relations," she said with a sly smile.

"Relation?" James asked, "you mean uh…"

"Yup," Meg giggled, "that's what I mean."

"That's disgusting," James said, wrinkling her nose.

"Yeah, well it's the latest and only gossip at the moment…except its not really gossip because Sorelli told me that she, er…she knows its true."

"Poor Sorelli," Christine said, faking a small shudder, "that must have been traumatizing."

"Why, Miss Daae, you have a truly mean streak in you at times," Meg said teasingly.

"Well, its true," Christine murmured, "now if you don't mind I have to go."

"Go where?" James asked.

"Oh nowhere," Christine replied, "I'll be back in a bit."

She made her way down to the chapel and greeted her Angel. She now looked forward to lessons, no matter how difficult the material or how many times she was forced to repeat it. Lessons meant time with her Angel, and that was important. She could always talk to him if she was worried about something, or just needed somebody who would listen no matter what. Not only that, but she loved to hear his voice and was always thrilled when he would sing for her, even if it was only a few bars of what he was teaching her.

* * *

**A/N: Look, I updated and it didn't take forever! Aren't you all thrilled or, you know, at least glad? Well I hope you are, and that you will leave me some reviews to read...because otherwise I don't get e-mails and that is just sad.**


	38. XXXVIII

XXXVIII

Erik paced irritably, and closed the curtain that lead to the mannequin. He knew that is wasn't right for him to feel the way he did. After all she was his student and he was her teacher. Besides she was so much younger than him, well, perhaps not that much younger.

It didn't seem to matter what he told himself though, it never changed anything. She was beautiful and had the voice of an Angel. She called him her 'Angel of Music' ad he thought of her in nearly the same way.

"This is ridiculous," he grumbled, crossing the lair and climbing into the boat.

He hadn't been able to sleep in days, at least not for long periods of time. So he spent most of his time wandering the empty halls of the theatre. They weren't all that exciting, occasionally there was a dancer sneaking out to meet a lover, or sneaking in after meeting a lover.

A lover, he had thought about that before. But of course it was a foolish idea, besides he wanted real love. Real love, that of course was an even more foolish thought. After all when one lived under a theatre it would be hard to find love, but then again there was Christine. He turned away from that thought though, it was stupid…at least he told himself that.

He sighed heavily and found himself wandering towards Antoinette's apartment, after all it wasn't that late. Before he thought it through he knocked on the door, immediately regretting his actions and backing back into the shadows. There was always the risk that one of the dancers was in there, or perhaps the manager had needed to discuss something. The door opened and he prepared to turn and leave.

"Erik?" Antoinette asked, "what are you doing here?"

"Nothing," he replied shortly, "I was just…nothing."

"Ah, I see," she replied, "so you came here and knocked on my door for no reason?"

"I…yes, I suppose so."

Antoinette frowned slightly, she knew Erik better than he thought. He never did anything without a reason, even if he did not know it himself or simply did not want to admit it. Something was troubling him, that much was obvious, the question was what.

"So, there is nothing you wanted to talk about?" Antoinette asked.

"No…I should be going," he replied hurriedly, "good night, Madame."

"Erik, come here," she said, "I just made tea, you may come in and have some if you want."

"Thank you, but-"

"Non, come in. It is no skin of your nose and you are here," she interrupted.

"Madame, I really don't think-"

"No you don't think," Antoinette sighed and, rolling her eyes, grabbed his sleeve and pulled him into her small apartment. She didn't care that he had an aversion to touch, sometimes an extra shove was just what was needed with him, "Now sit down and I will pour us each a cup of tea."

Erik obeyed reluctantly, choosing to sit on the corner of the bed instead of taking the chair. It was almost comical really. The infamous Opera Ghost, feared by all who worked in the theatre, sitting down in a small apartment for a cup of tea. It made Antoinette give a small laugh under her breath.

"Thank you," he muttered when she handed him the tea.

"You are welcome. Now, why is it that you come knocking at my door so late at night?" she asked.

"It is not _that_ late, Madame. And I already told you, there was no reason."

"Non? Perhaps, or perhaps you do not know the reason, or maybe you do not wish to tell me," she said, thoughtfully sipping her tea.

"Madame, do not pester me."

"Fine…how have you been, Erik?" she asked, already looking him over. He was still thin and from what she could tell he was tired.

"I have been fine," he replied.

"You seem tired, have you been sleeping and eating properly, or even regularly?"

"I am doing just fine, Madame," he replied a bit sharply, sipping his own tea, "you needn't concern yourself with my health."

"If I do not then who will?" she queried, "Lord know that you will not."

Erik gave a frustrated sigh, "I have not been sleeping well."

"I see," she said thoughtfully, "why not?"

"How would I know?" he snapped.

"There must be a reason, have you been composing?"

"If I were composing then I would not be here talking to you, would I?"

Antoinette shrugged and got up to pour herself some more tea. He might decide to tell her what was bothering him still, but she would not hold her breath for it. After all it was Erik, and he was not known for being open. The man lived under an opera house. Still, there was a chance.

"Antoinette?" he asked quietly, swirling the remaining tea in his cup and watching it at tentatively.

"Yes, Erik?" she asked, intrigued that he had used her name.

"I…what is it like…to be in love?"

The question threw her off and it took a minute before she could compose herself to answer, "Well, its…its Is hard to describe, Erik, you simply know."

"But how?"

"Do you want to see this person as often as possible?" Antoinette asked, "your heart races, you can't stop thinking about them, you think that they are the most beautiful or amazing person in the world…does that help?"

"Yes…I guess it does."

"Why are you asking, Erik?"

"I was just curious, Madame," he said defensively.

Antoinette made a thoughtful noise in her throat. If Erik did think that he was in love then who could it possibly be? After all he had no contacts that she knew of other than her, except…Christine. She knew that he was teaching her to sing. She tried to listen whenever possible, the girl had an amazing voice.

"So, you are in love with her then?" she asked.

Erik looked up with a mixture of confusion and anger on his face, "Her?"

"Christine Daae," she clarified, "and do not deny your connection to her…Angel."

"When?" he hissed, eyes narrowing.

"A while ago," she sighed, "perhaps a year ago, I have been listening whenever I am able to. She has a lovely voice, Erik, you have taught her well."

Erik smiled slightly, "Yes…merci."

"But remember Erik, to her you are nothing but a voice. There is no face, no body,. Just a voice, the voice of who she believes is the Angel of Music."

"It's a better title than the Phantom of the Opera, don't you think?"

"I do not know, Phantom has a certain ring to it," Antoinette jested.

"Hmm, funny."

"I will not interfere with this affair, Erik, but keep one thing in mind. You are an angel to her, and an angel is somewhat like a ghost."

"I know," he interrupted, "both are simply figments of the imagination…thank you for the tea, Madame."

"You are welcome," she replied, "oh, and if you've been having trouble sleeping, try putting some laudanum in a glass of water."

"Perhaps I will try that."

"Only three or four drops," Antoinette said.

Erik rolled his eyes, "I am not an idiot, Madame. Good night."

* * *

Christine sighed heavily as she stared at the dark ceiling of the dormitory. She could hear Meg snoring quietly and the even breathing of the other dancers as they slept. She couldn't sleep though, music was running through her head, the voice of her angel and the sound of the instruments in the orchestra playing softly. 

It was strange, at least she thought it was, that his voice could make her feel so strange. It was as if there was no one else in the world when they sang together. Everything melted away leaving just him and her in the small stone chapel.

Sometimes she thought it would be nice if he were real. That it was a real man and not just an angel who sang to her. But somewhere in the back of her mind she knew that he had to be real. That there had to be a face, a body behind the voice, but she didn't want to accept that. Sometimes childhood fantasies were nice to believe in.

* * *

**A/N: Its an update! Yes, shocking I know, so please read and review.**


	39. XXXIX

XXXIX

Antoinette stood to the side while Monsieur Lefevre tried to get the attention of the cast. She hushed her dancers and after a few moments the excitement died down. Monsieur Lefevre cleared his throat to get the last few people to be quiet.

"Yes, I am sorry to interrupt this final rehearsal but I have an announcement to make," he said, "the next opera that he Opera Populaire will be Chalumeau's _Hannibal. _You may go back to your rehearsals now, I hope tonight's performance goes well."

"Come on girls," Antoinette said, clapping her hands, "back to work!"

With a few heavy sighs and small moans the dancers reformed their lines and got ready to go on. They had already gone through their ballets twice and were now waiting for Carlotta to be happy so they could leave. Unfortunately that always seemed to take forever, and she never did end up happy, just frustrated enough to leave.

"That was awful," Meg groaned as her and Christine re-entered the dormitory, "honestly, how many times can you get the same verse wrong?"

"Apparently a lot," Christine replied.

"Yeah, apparently, lets just hope she doesn't get it wrong again tonight. After all we have been practicing for a month."

"I have to go, Meg," Christine said after putting her Pointe shoes away, "I'll be back in a bit, alright?"

"Oh, sure, James, Meghan and I are going out later. Do you want to come?"

Christine bit her lip as she tried to think, "No…I don't think so."

"Alright, see you later then."

Christine smiled and waved as she left the dormitory and made her way to the chapel. Upon entering she knew that her Angel was there. She was now used to his unseen presence.

"Hell, Christine," he said warmly, "how are you?"

"I am fine," she replied.

"That is good."

"The theatre is going to perform Hannibal," she commented.

"I see…would you like to learn the parts of the lead?" he asked.

"Ellisa's parts?" Christine asked, "I- well, La Carlotta is playing Elissa. So why would I need to learn the part?"

"Would you like to learn the part, Christine?" he repeated.

"Yes, of course," she replied.

"Very well then. Let us begin…"

* * *

Christine fell back on her bed and let out an exhausted sigh. Soon Meg's face appeared in front of her, "Tired, Christine?"

"Yes," she moaned, "I'm exhausted."

"Really? I didn't think rehearsals were that hard. In fact they've been pretty easy."

"They aren't," she replied, "I guess I just haven't been getting a lot of sleep lately…"

"Why not?" Meg asked, sitting on the corner of the bed, "have you not been feeling well, Christine? If so you should tell maman."

"It isn't that…I actually feel very good, I don't even know why I can't sleep. I just can't…I must sound foolish, but its true."

"It doesn't sound foolish. Maybe you're excited about something," Meg suggested.

"Yes, that might be it," Christine replied softly, thinking about her lessons and the upcoming performance.

"I guess you don't want to go out then," Meg sighed, "James and I were going to go to the café."

"No, I'll come," Christine said, sitting up, "it should be fun."

"You sure, Christine? After all, it is almost dark out," Meg teased.

"I'm positive," Christine replied, "I'm tired of lazing around here every night. Lets go."

* * *

Erik sighed and tapped the pen against the table as he stared at the note in front of him. He didn't know what he was going to write, he had already used considerable threats and 'accident' to try and rid the theatre of Carlotta and none of them seemed to work. Monsieur Lefevre was just too good at grovelling for it to work. Some how he managed to get the stupid diva to return every time.

"Perhaps I should take a different approach," he said, smirking, "if threatening her does not work, then perhaps threatening someone else will…"

He gave a small chuckle and started to scribble a note of the paper in front of him. This time he knew it would work. After all, Monsieur Lefevre had always been terribly afraid of him.

He signed the note quickly and sealed it in an envelope before making his way up to the theatre. He was lucky to find that Monsieur Lefevre was talking with Monsieur Reyer on the stage, most likely about the upcoming performance. So he dropped the note and left.

* * *

Antoinette sighed heavily as the rehearsal ended. Rumours had been flying around the theatre that Monsieur Lefevre was planning on retiring, though he had never said it himself. She believed the rumours though, the man had been looking ill over the past week and had spent more time in his office than usual.

"Monsieur Lefevre!" she called as she approached him just as he was leaving.

"Oh, Madame Giry, how are you today?" he asked, a tense smile forming on his lips.

"I am fine, and you?"

"Oh, you know, just fine…is there something that you wanted?"

"I have heard that you are thinking of retiring. I just wanted to know if the rumours were true."

"Retiring?" he repeated, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his watch, "oh, where have you heard such rumours?"

"They are all over the theatre, especially in the corps."

"Oh…" he murmured, glancing down at the watch, "well that is very interesting. I must go, Madame, I have a meeting I have to attend."

"With who?"

"Oh, just a pair of gentlemen…good day, Madame Giry," he said, stuffing the watch back into his pocket.

"Oui, au revoir, Monsieur Lefevre."

He gave another tense smile and hurried out of the theatre. Antoinette waited for him to be out the door before bending over and picking up the note on the floor. It had obviously fallen out of his pocket when he had gotten the watch, and she recognized the writing on it.

She glanced over it and frowned, very nearly stamping her foot as she turned and stalked back through the theatre. No wonder the poor man was acting so strange. Most people who had been threatened by the Opera Ghost didn't just go about their day.

"Erik?" she called once she entered the chapel. She knew he would still be there, she had passed Christine as she went down.

"Yes?" he replied irritably, "could I ask you to be a bit quieter, Madame?"

"So now you are threatening the manager?" she demanded, ignoring his question, "how appropriate of you, Erik. If you cannot get rid of the diva get rid of the man who seems so intent on keeping her. Is that it?"

"So you found out?" he sighed, "I should have known…I suppose my answer would have to be yes. Though you must agree, this theatre has been under the same management for much too long."

Antoinette sighed irritably and massaged her temples, "There is no point in arguing with you, Erik. But I have to ask, do you really expect the next manager to be as complying as Monsieur Lefevre?"

She heard him sigh, "I cannot guarantee it…but I have a feeling that he will be."

"I see, and who do you plan to replace Carlotta with?" she continued.

"Who else?" Erik began, "Christine."

"She could take over that position?" Antoinette badgered, "she is talented enough?"

"Of course she is!" Erik snarled, "now if you do not mind, Madame. I have business to attend to."

Antoinette sighed and nodded her head, "Au revoir."

"Good day," he replied curtly.

Antoinette left the chapel and rubbed her temples again. She could already tell that the entire affair was going to become one very large headache.

* * *

**A/N: Well its been a very long while, hasn't it? So sorry about the long wait, I promise to update again soon. This was the second last chapter...though there might be an epilogue of sorts. Anyways, please review!**


	40. XL

XL

Christine sighed and watched the rehearsal, Carlotta swatting at members of the chorus that got too close. Meg rolled her eyes and reached her arms up over her head in a stretch.

"So, have you heard the rumours, Christine?" she asked.

"What rumours?" Christine asked, still watching the display before her.

"That Monsieur Lefevre is leaving," Meg said, "rumour has it that he is retiring."

"Oh…really?" Christine murmured, "I wonder why."

"Maybe he's had enough of this," Meg laughed, pointing at the stage, "or maybe he's had enough of the Ghost ordering him around and threatening people. Who knows. All I've heard is that he's retiring. No one seems to know the details."

"That's a shame."

"Hello?" Meg said, waving her hand in front of Christine's face, "Christine, you in there?"

"Sorry, Meg, I was just thinking."

"You've been 'thinking' a lot lately. What about? Some handsome young man?"

"No, Meg."

"Oh, so it's a handsome older man," Meg teased.

"Meg, its nothing like that," Christine sighed.

"Sure it isn't," Meg said, rolling her eyes.

"It isn't!" Christine insisted.

"Uh-huh."

"If you must know I was thinking about the performances," Christine said, shoving her friend gently.

"What about it?" Meg asked.

"Just about it," Christine replied, "you know, how it will go and everything."

"They will go just as any other performances have gone," Meg said, "the audience will love them because of La Carlotta, we'll hate them because of La Carlotta and the Ghost will like certain parts."

"The ones that La Carlotta isn't it," Christine finished.

"Exactly…oh, we're on!"

* * *

"Marvellous," Erik praised, smiling down at Christine. 

"Thank you," she replied quietly.

"You know all of the parts now, don't you my dear?" Erik asked, running over the different parts that Elisa sang in the opera.

"Yes, I do," she replied.

"Well then you may go now, Christine. Make sure to get plenty of sleep. Tomorrow will be a busy day."

"Oh…alright. Good night, Angel."

"Good night, Christine," he replied, still smiling down on her.

Tomorrow would be the performance and tomorrow he would see her on stage, singing in front of hundreds of people, all of whom would love her. The idea made him smile, his Christine would be the star of the Opera Populaire, and for making her a star she would surely love him.

The last thought made his smile falter though. Yes, he had taught her everything and listened to her dreams and troubles for years. She knew the parts to the upcoming operas backwards and forwards, but something still bothered him. Christine only knew him as an angel, and he had to admit that an angel was not far off from a ghost.

He gave a heavy sigh and decided to go up to the roof before heading back down to his lair. It was a cool night, but not altogether uncomfortable. He went over to the edge of the roof and stared out over the city of Paris. The sun was just setting, bathing the city in a orangey-pink glow. It would be now that most people would be sitting down to eat or to spend time with their families.

"The view is lovely, isn't it?" Antoinette asked, coming up behind him.

"I suppose it is," he replied, "how are you tonight, Madame?"

"Very well, thank you. And how are you on this fine evening?"

"Fine…"

Antoinette shook her head and handed him a pike of bread. Erik gave it a quizzical look before taking it, "Thank you."

"I figured that you had not eaten anything today."

"You would be correct…"

"Is there something on your mind?" Antoinette asked.

"How did you know I was up here?"

"I saw you," she replied simply, "well, perhaps a moving shadow would be more accurate."

"I should be more careful then."

"Hmm, everyone is eating or in their rooms."

"Not everyone," Erik assured her.

"Well, everyone should be in their rooms. Now, what is bothering you?"

"Nothing, I was just appreciating this stunning view. I never tire of it."

"No, I do not think anyone could ever tire of it," Antoinette said, "the performance is tomorrow, are you looking forward to it?"

"Yes, actually, I am. It will be a marvellous performance, Madame. Better then any this theatre has ever seen."

Antoinette frowned slightly, "I see, so you are still planning on having Christine perform?"

"Of course I am," he shot back, "tomorrow will bring many changes to this theatre."

"Hopefully they will all be good," Antoinette said.

"Yes…have you ever wondered what people do outside of this theatre, Madame? I wonder about it whenever I come up here at night."

"Most people are home with their families, eating supper or sitting by a fire."

"Hmm…"

"Something the matter?"

"No, I was just thinking of what it would be like to…never mind. I should be going now, good night, Madame."

"Yes, good night, Erik."

Erik gave a small bow and returned to the theatre, making the long journey down to the dark depths of the theatre. Tomorrow he would ensure that Christine would be playing the lead, tomorrow the new managers would arrive and he would finally have his will done. Christine was ready and so was he.

* * *

Christine and Meg hurriedly changed into their costumes, helping each other. As usual the two were late . They hurried down into the crowded backstage, giggling and chatting as they joined the other girls who were already stretching. Antoinette glanced back at them and they pretended to be engrossed in their arm movements. 

The sound of Piangi reached them and four men pushed through the crowd to the stage, led by Monsieur Lefevre.

"This way. Rehearsals, as you can see, are underway for a new production of Chalumeau's _Hannibal._"

Monsieur Reyer grumbled, "Monsieur Lefevre, I am rehearsing!"

Monsieur Lefevre turned to him and Antoinette, "Monsieur Reyer, Madame Giry, ladies and gentlemen, thank you - may I have your attention, please?" Everyone stopped what they were doing and turned towards them, "As you know, for some weeks now there have been rumours of my imminent retirement. I can now tell you that these were all true and…it is my pleasure to introduce you to the two gentlemen who now own the Opera Populaire: Monsieur Richard Firmin and Monsieur Gilles Andre. I'm sure you have read of their recent fortune amassed in the junk business."

"Scrap metal actually," Andre corrected.

Firmin stepped forward, "And we are deeply honoured to introduce our new patron."

"The Vicomte de Chagny," Andre said, practically beside himself

Christine looked up and her face paled, "Its Raoul! Before my father died…at the house by the sea…I guess you could say we were childhood sweethearts…He called me 'Little Lotte.'"

"Oh Christine…he's so handsome," Meg said

Raoul was quickly introduced to all of the leading cast and then quickly excused himself, apologising for interrupting their rehearsal. Christine watched as he went and sighed, turning to Meg and trying to hide her disappointment, "He wouldn't recognize me…"

"He didn't see you," Meg insisted.

* * *

Erik watched the rehearsal lazily, it was nothing spectacular, though he had to admit that he did enjoy the ballet. It wasn't long before Carlotta broke down and had one of her fits, causing the two new managers to try their hand at what Monsieur Lefevre had become so gifted at, grovelling. Unfortunately their method involved having her sing Elissa's aria from act three. It worked, of course, and Erik found the perfect opportunity to assert himself. After all, Buquet had left his post. 

He quickly moved over to it and unwound the rope that held up the backdrop. Releasing it, the backdrop crashed down onto the stage and he quickly moved away, knowing that Buquet would rush over to pull the scenery back up. As he left he dropped a note for Antoinette to pick up, he knew that she would already be looking for it.

* * *

Meg turned to Christine and gasped, "He's here…The Phantom of the Opera…" 

Christine nodded and turned to look at the scene before them. The backdrop had landed just behind the diva, not actually on her, so she was not injured. Unfortunately the incident had ignited her temper and she stormed off, much the distress of the two new managers.

"Signor Giudicelli, she will be coming back, won't she?" Andre asked Monsieur Reyer.

"You think so, messieurs? I have a message, sir, from the Opera Ghost," Antoinette announced.

"Oh god in Heaven, you're all obsessed!" Firmin exclaimed.

"He welcomes you to his opera house-," Antoinette continued.

"His opera house?" Firmin interrupted

"-and commands that you continue to leave Box Five empty for his use and reminds you that his salary is due."

"His salary?" Firmin snorted.

"Well, Monsieur Lefevre paid him twenty thousand francs a month."

"Twenty thousand francs!" Firmin exclaimed.

"Perhaps you can afford more, with the Vicomte de Chagny as your patron."

* * *

Christine and Meg turned to one another as the two continued to talk. Firmin seemed to be getting more and more frantic as he spoke. Andre mentioned an understudy and Meg had to bite her tongue not to laugh. As the managers talked Meg decided to revisit the appearance of Raoul. 

"So, childhood sweethearts? That's so cute, Christine. Why haven't you mentioned him before?"

"I really didn't remember until now. It was so long ago, and we were so young."

"I'm sure that next time he'll see you, and then he'll remember, Christine," she said cheerfully.

"I don't think so, Meg."

"Of course he will and then you will be the talk of the theatre."

"Christine Daae could sign I, sir," Antoinette said confidently, causing Meg and Christine to turn and look at her.

"What, a chorus girl? Don't be silly," Andre said, dismissing the idea.

"She has been taking lessons from a great teacher," Antoinette insisted.

Christine could feel herself pale as the other dancers all looked at her. Her heart rate increased and she knew that Meg was giving her a questioning look while the others were glaring or muttering amongst themselves.

"Who?" Andre asked.

"I don't know his name, Monsieur," Christine said uneasily, knowing how foolish she must sound.

"Let her sing for you, monsieur. She has been well taught," Antoinette assured them.

"Alright," Andre said, "come on, don't be shy…come on. Come along. Just, just…"

"From the top of the aria then, mam'selle," Monsieur Reyer said.

Christine slowly moved forward and heard Firmin whisper, "Andre this is doing nothing for my nerves." Then Andre reply, "Oh, she's very pretty."

Monsieur gave her two bars before she began to sing. She started quietly, nervous with everyone listening and watching her. But Monsieur Reyer was encouraging her, along with Meg and Antoinette. After a few moments she began to enjoy herself and could hear her voice growing in confidence as the cast all watched, Andre and Firmin both with smiles on their faces.

"Bravo!" Firmin exclaimed when she finished, "very good, very good indeed."

Christine smiled and soon found herself being prepared for the night's performance. She was hurried to the costumes department to try on the dresses and headpieces they would need. Some exceptions had to be made, but overall they fit well. Antoinette made sure to help her get ready, and she appreciated it as her nerves began to take hold.

"I don't know if I can do this," she muttered, "there are so many people out there."

"You can do this," Antoinette assured her, "you have an amazing voice, my dear, and you have no need to fear. Pick someone to sing for and sing for them alone."

Christine nodded her head, the choice wasn't hard, she immediately thought of her Angel, "Thank you, Madame…may I go to the chapel for a moment?"

"Of course, but do not take too long."

"I won't."

Christine stood in the chapel, just taking comfort in the unseen presence of her Angel. She took a few deep breaths in attempt to calm her nerves again and closed her eyes, "Angel?"

"I am here, Christine," he replied.

She smiled, "I'm relieved…I'm so nervous."

"You needn't be," he murmured, "they will love you, Christine. Just as I do."

"Thank you," she said, "I'll be singing for you tonight."

"That is an honour, Christine, thank you," he said, "now go, the performance is about to begin. I will be watching, Christine, so there is no need to be nervous."

"Thank you," she said and turned to leave.

* * *

Erik smiled as anticipation bubbled inside him. He wanted so much for her to do well and if all did go well, then he would allow her to meet him. She had always used to ask to see him, when she was little, perhaps now was the time. 

He took a deep breath and made his way through the passage until he was near Box Five. He waited until he heard the overture and then a while longer before edging out and making his way towards the box. He was about to enter when he heard someone clapping from inside. Eyes narrowing he waited a moment and then managed to catch a glimpse inside.

"Ah, our new patron," he hissed, turning and storming away. He wouldn't interrupt tonight's performance, not for any reason. Instead he found a place that was located almost directly under the orchestra pit.

From bellow the stage he could hear everything perfectly, though he could not see anything. It did not really matter, when Elissa's aria from act three came he listened and could not help but smile at the sound of Christine's voice. It was as perfect as ever as was she, and she was singing for him.

* * *

Christine smiled widely as the theatre applauded, though her head felt light. She heard Monsieur Reyer congratulate her and was touched that the old conductor thought that she did so well. Once the applause died down she made her way backstage and pushed her way through the crowd and down to the chapel, there she lit a candle for her father and knelt to pray, still exhausted by the performance. 

"Brave, brava, bravissima…" his voice echoed through the small room and she looked up and smiled.

"I did well?" she asked.

"You did marvellously," he replied, kindness and gentleness etched in his voice, "and tonight I will have something very special for you, Christine."

"Something special?" she repeated, confused by his words.

"Christine…Christine…" Meg sang, causing Christine to turn and look at the stairs.

"Christine…" Erik echoed, leaving as the blonde ballet girl entered. He had a lot to do if all was to go as he planned.

* * *

**A/N: Well here is is, the last official chaper of the story, though I thinkI will have a little epilogue up tomorrow or the day after that. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I spent a lot of time going though my POTO companion to get all the dialogue right. So please leave a review!**


	41. Epilogue: XLI

Epilogue

XLI

He made his way through the bustle of the crowd, staying in the shadows to remain unseen. Luckily with such crowds he went relatively unnoticed, just another well-dressed man amongst a hundred others. He quickly found the dressing room Christine would be using and slipped a key out of his pocket.

No one noticed him slip inside and close the door. He breathed a quick sigh of relief and pulled a single red rose tied with a red satin ribbon out from the folds of his cloak. He quickly lay it on a nearby table and made his way to the mirror. It had been years since he had ever used the passage behind the mirror and he quickly checked the weights and counterbalances to make sure that it was working. Then, just as he had entered, he exited, slipping back into the shadows and away from the room, just as Antoinette pushed though the crowd, ushering Christine.

He waited, staying as far back into the shadows as he could. He watched as the new patron entered the room with a bouquet of flowers and frowned.

As the other people started to leave he edged towards the door and listened to the end of the conversation through the door.

"No doubt of it. And now we go to supper!" Raoul said.

"No, Raoul; the Angel of Music is very strict!" Christine gasped.

"I shan't keep you up late!" the young man reasoned.

"No, Raoul…"

"You must change. I'll order my carriage. Two minutes - Little Lotte."

Erik quickly stepped to the side as the door opened and held his breath as the young man hurried away, not noticing him. As the door closed he heard Christine, "Raoul! No, wait!" Erik growled low in his throat, this was no time for a handsome young man to enter her life, especially one she seemed to know. He quickly turned the key in the door, locking Christine inside and hurried around to make his way back behind the mirror.

* * *

Christine sighed and stared at the door for a moment before looking around the lavishly decorated dressing room. With a sigh she began to undo the dress and, though she was not entirely sure how, she managed to get it off and found a dressing gown to put on. After all, there was nothing else for her to wear, the dressing room wasn't even hers.

She put it on and began to tie it as she walked to the door. She had no intentions of going out with Raoul, even though she did want to see her old friend again. She figured that if she returned to the dormitory he would not be able to find her, and then she would not have to worry. She just hoped that her Angel was not upset that she had been alone with him.

With a final sigh she murmured, "I'm sorry, Raoul."

* * *

Erik emerged in the passage behind the mirror slightly out of breath and heart hammering in his chest harder then he had ever imagined it could. He took a deep breath to try and calm his nerves, still unsure whether or not he should actually go through with it. But he was here and she was just beyond a trick mirror.

He saw her just as she started to tie the dressing gown and heard for the door. For a moment his resolve faltered, but then he heard her murmur the name of the young man and he felt his temper flare. he took a step forward just as she reached for the door and focussed his anger before opening his mouth.

He had no idea what chain of event would unfold from that one moment. He did not know that through opening his mouth he would set off a chain of events that would put the theatre in peril as well as his own life and the life on the one he loved so dearly.

* * *

**A/N: And now it really is over, sad I know. However, someone suggested continuing the story by doing the entire movie in story formand I am considering it. If you have any opinion tell me in a review. Because you know how I love reviews.**


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